In God's Eyes
by Garbage and City Lights
Summary: Ah, you knew it was coming. A third in my "After the Corn" trilogy. Micah thinks that Gabe should never know about his past, but someone's going to change that -- a face from his darkest memories. PG-13 for angst, violence, and language.
1. Church

--Yeah, this one actually took a while to get the plot figured out. But it IS figured out, and it IS in progress! YAY! Still don't own Micah or COTC, nor do I own the songs. I own Gabe and Edith. Fun stuff! This is the third in the trilogy... let's hope it's not getting tired or anything. Okay, read!--_  
  
Yeah, yeah  
God is great  
Yeah, yeah  
God is good  
Yeah, yeah  
Yeah yeah yeah  
--_from _One Of Us _by Joan Osborne  
  
The girl straightened his collar with a frown.  
"Really, Micah. This'll do you a world of good, I promise." The boy scowled and jerked away from her hands.  
"I don't want to _do _this," he muttered. Her eyes softened; she smoothed his black hair carefully.  
"No one's making you do anything," Gabe said in a gentle voice. "If you don't want to go in, you don't have to." She paused, then leaned forward and pressed a kiss against Micah's paler-than-usual forehead. "But I'd really like you to." He glanced reluctantly up at Gabe. She was wearing a pale blue summer dress that made her eyes look that much brighter, and her face was hopeful. This was something she really wanted him to do. Micah felt a stab of guilt.  
(she doesn't know she wants to help)  
"Gabrielle," Edith said suddenly, startling them both. "We're already late. Is he coming or not?" Gabe shot him a pleading look, and Micah caved.  
"I'm coming," he said softly. Edith nodded and disappeared past the big wooden doors. Gabe smiled down at him, smoothing his hair again.  
"Are you sure?" she murmured. "I know you feel a little uncomfortable, and I don't want to force--" Micah cut her off with a weak nod.  
"Yeah." He glanced at the doors with a mix of dull fear and sick apprehension. "Lead the way." Gabe paused, then gave his hand a light stroke.  
"Okay," she said quietly, smiling again. She slipped past the open doors silently.  
  
Micah hesitated, took a deep breath, and wheeled slowly into the church.  
  
The priest had already reached the first reading when they took their seats. Micah, feeling bulky and out of place in his wheelchair, had to be situated in the very back row. Gabe settled into the pew, gave him a kind smile, and turned her attention to the preacher. Micah smiled back, but it didn't feel quite right. Besides, he couldn't help remembering the last time he had sat in the back row.  
(blood everywhere)  
Gabe was listening to the reading with rapt attention. It was very clear she was a frequent church-goer.  
(She wasn't there. She doesn't know what it was like.)  
Micah shifted uncomfortably and tried to keep his mind on the preacher.  
(She didn't hear Mr. Simpson's scream for help, or the terrified gasps of the crowd.)  
He stared straight ahead, but out of the corner of his eye he glimpsed someone in the third row. A blink, and the stranger was Mr. Simpson.  
(She didn't see the blood oozing from his nose--)  
Micah tried not to look, but his memory and his eyesight turned against him. The Mr. Simpson look-alike dabbed at his nose idly with a handkerchief, only to find it dotted with crimson blood.  
(--and his ears--)  
He didn't fully see Mr. Simpson -- that was what it wanted him to do -- but the vision was there, and it was clear.  
(--and his _eyes--)  
_Micah jerked violently when the hand fell on his shoulder.  
"Honey," Gabe said, sounding worried. He offered a weak smile, glad to be out of the frightening memory. The stranger had turned back into a nameless stranger.  
"Hm?" Micah asked quietly, trying to sound nonchalant. Gabe's blonde brows knitted in concern.  
"You looked like you were going to cry," she whispered. "Are you sure you're--" But then the congregation rose, and organ music began.  
"Go on," he urged, looking back at his hands. "Time to sing." Gabe, still frowning, glanced at her hymnal.  
"But--"  
"I'm fine," Micah assured her softly. She didn't respond; one hand smoothed his hair tenderly as she joined in with the rest of the church, getting to her feet. Micah glanced down at his hands uncomfortably, unable to rise in respect for the Lord.  
(you should tell her what happened)  
He was supposed to watch the priest, he knew, but Micah found himself watching Gabe instead.  
(she deserves to know)  
She was staring straight ahead where she was supposed to. Apparently, this was a song she knew; her hymnal had been abandoned on the pew.  
(she _deserves _to know what happened in Hemmingford)  
Gabe continued singing in a high, clear voice that gradually blended in with the rest of the church.  
"And he will raise you up on eagle's wings--"  
Micah felt something inside him twist painfully. They had sang before the... accident.  
(do you remember?)  
That was what they had called it, wasn't it? An accident?  
(you _do _remember _don't _you)  
His stomach lurched.  
(thought you'd forgotten hadn't you)  
They had sang -- what was it? -- Here I Am. It was a very pretty song.  
"--bear you on the breath of dawn--"  
(ah but _they _sang _you _didn't)  
Micah swallowed, but his mouth was suddenly filled with a foul taste.  
(_you _were holding a knife)  
"--make you to shine like the sun--"  
The voices of the congregation rang out clearly, but it was a dull sound to his ears.  
(and a voo doo doll)  
"--and hold you in the palm--"  
Micah squeezed his eyes shut tightly.  
(in the _house of the Lord)  
_"--of his hand." The song ended, the music drifted off, and Gabe sat down. She glanced at him -- just barely -- and immediately frowned.  
"Micah," she whispered, eyes widening. "Honey, what's wrong? You look like you're going to be sick!" He swallowed back the rising bile in his throat.  
"I'm fine," he repeated for what felt the fortieth time that morning. Gabe watched him silently, then took his hand gently in hers.  
(she understands TELL HER)  
It made him feel a little better, so Micah swallowed hard and fought the stinging memories.  
  
He managed to make it to communion before having to excuse himself to the lobby of the church. Had he stayed, Micah would have most certainly threw up all over the congregation.  
  
(stupid it was stupid to come)  
Micah sat alone in the lobby, dry sobs rising in his throat like the light breakfast that was sure to follow if he opened his mouth.  
(the Lord forgives all)  
It had been Gabe's intention, obviously; to obtain spiritual forgiveness for him.  
(He forgives all except _you)  
_But she didn't know that it was beyond his reach. Micah looked down at his neat blue suit in disgust. Like it was going to get him into Heaven, a nice suit. He was stained permanently with the blood of those who had died for his weakness.  
"Micah?" Gabe's worried voice broke the lobby's uneasy silence. He didn't turn, only his his face in his hands.  
"Fine," he mumbled, and he knew that neither Gabe nor himself believed that worn-out lie. "Fine, fine, I'm just fine--" His words were muffled by his fingers. The tears had started before he even reached the doors, and Micah felt immensely embarrassed because of it.  
"Don't lie," Gabe interrupted, tone firm. She dropped to a knee before him, hands falling on his shoulders. "Don't lie, honey. There's absolutely no reason to." A sob hitched in his throat, and Micah chanced a glance at her face. That was a mistake; the compassion and concern there turned the light sob into a hard one and he had to cover his eyes again.  
"I shouldn't even _be _here," he choked, tears making his palms slick and wet. "God doesn't want me here, no one does--" Gabe's fingers on his shoulders began kneading gently.  
"Sh, sh." She began hushing him softly, and the quiet sound was a comfort in itself to Micah. He managed to bite back the sobs, but his tears were still hot and painful. "Micah, sweetheart," Gabe said once he had calmed down a little. "Why would you think that God doesn't want you here?" He brought up a shaky hand to rub at his face, but her thumb gently wiped away the tears before he had the chance.  
(don't tell her)  
_(tell her)  
_His thoughts battled, but Micah found a way around the question.  
"Some sins," he said carefully, "cannot be forgiven." He felt satisfied with his answer, but Gabe shook her head slowly.  
"Oh, no." She took one of his hands in hers and stroked it tenderly. "That's not true. No matter what you think you've done, God forgives you." Micah sniffed quietly, feeling embarrassed and foolish.  
"Oh?" he asked softly, and the touch of cynicism was not lost on Gabe.  
"Yes. When you ask for his forgiveness, God gives it." Gabe paused, then spread his palm carefully and laid a light kiss on it. "In God's eyes, you are forgiven for whatever sins you have committed. And in my eyes, too." Micah watched in silence, gradually regaining his grip on sanity.  
(don't tell her)  
(TELL HER)  
Gabe curled his fingers back over his palm and offered a weak smile.  
"Okay?" Her voice was that of an unsure child; one who has done the best they could and is positive it wasn't enough.  
"Yeah," he murmured.  
(don't tell her)  
(TELL HER, YOU FRICKING MORON!)  
"Communion's almost over, sweetheart." Gabe smoothed his hair tenderly, standing. "We can wait out here until it's done, okay?" He looked up at her, and right then  
(!!TELL HER!!)  
he wanted to let it all out; everything that happened in Gatlin, everything that happened in Hemmingford. A true Catholic confession. But then, two seconds after the blind, desperate need to tell, something hit him.  
(she doesn't think you're a monster because she _doesn't know)  
_"Micah?" Gabe murmured, and he blinked.  
"Yeah, sure," Micah mumbled.  
(she can't know she's the only one who really loves you)  
She patted his arm comfortingly.  
"We'll try this again when you feel better, okay?" He nodded slowly.  
"Okay." Gabe started to pull away, but he grabbed her hand impulsively. "Thank you," he whispered, and gave her a gentle kiss  
"No need to thank me," she said after drawing back. Gabe jabbed a finger upwards with a grin. "Thank Him."  
"Sure will," he agreed, trying to hide the waver to his voice.  
  
Right then, Micah swore Gabe would never know his bloody past. _Ever._


	2. The Hemmingford Horror

--Don't own Micah. Own Gabe. 'Nuff said.--  
  
_She's so high  
High above me, she's so lovely  
She's so high  
Cleopatra, Joan of Arc, or Aphrodite  
She's so high  
High above me  
_--from _She's So High_ by Tal Bachman  
  
"I've got the week off." Gabe had spoken quite suddenly; Micah looked up from the newspaper with a blink.  
"What?"  
"I said I've got the week off." She smiled, somewhat wearily, and stabbed at her scrambled eggs. "They just hired some new nurse and they're taking the week to break her in. Good thing, though. I've been nearly beaten to death by the work load." He blinked again, then offered a grin.  
"Great! I haven't gotten to see you much lately." Gabe took her glass of orange juice and held it thoughtfully.  
"Yeah," she said, watching the liquid slosh around in the glass. "I'll be looking forward to spending more time with you." Micah finished the article he was reading and lowered the newspaper.  
"Perhaps," he began slowly, "we could put that time to good use?" He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, and Gabe giggled into her hand.  
"You wish." She stuck her tongue out at him, spearing another forkful of egg. "Maybe. If you're _good."_  
"What are you talking about?" Micah paused to take a sip of his milk. "I'm always good." Gabe rolled her eyes and reached for the paper.  
"Are you done?" she asked, snapping her fingers impatiently. "Fork it over." He handed over the newspaper.  
"Yeah. Not much to read about today." Micah waited as Gabe buried her nose in the paper. When she was lost behind the papery wall, he leaned over and snagged a few scrambled eggs off of her plate.  
"Mm hm. And I can see you stealing my eggs, Micah." She looked at him over the newspaper and smirked. "Try that again and you'll find yourself missing a finger or two."  
"You wouldn't do that," he said through a mouthful of eggs. "Besides, these are dry. I need some orange juice to wash it down." Micah shot a hand out to snatch Gabe's orange juice.  
"Hey, don't you dare--" She put down the newspaper hurriedly. He snickered and pulled the glass away, but not before glancing at the paper spread on the table. And that was when he saw it. "Give me that," Gabe grumbled, plucking the glass of orange juice out of his hand. Micah didn't mind; he squinted at the article he'd just now noticed.  
"What's that?" he asked slowly. Gabe set down her juice and frowned.  
"What's what?" She scooted her chair over beside Micah to see what he was looking at. "What, an article?" He picked up the newspaper carefully and put a finger on the headline.  
  
_The Hemmingford Horror.  
  
_Gabe read it slowly to herself.  
"What's this crap?" she muttered, but Micah pulled the newspaper away and leaned forward to read it.  
  


**The Hemmingford Horror  
**

If you were to ask an employee of Central Hospital which patient sticks most clearly in their mind, they would most likely say 'Micah Balding', the 15 year old topic of discussion for the past three months. The boy had been found in a cornfield by some passing travelers, badly burned and legs mutilated. It only took a while for this roving reporter to dig up some dirt -- and I don't mean in the cornfield. Apparently, the nearby town -- Hemmingford -- had been completely cleared out. The adults, mostly -- this was proved by an in-depth study of Town Hall, which had been burned to the ground with most of Hemmingford's adult population inside. Hm, can we hear a little bit of Gatlin callin'? Though there has been no real evidence, it is _my _suspicion that our friend Micah was the victim of more than an ordinary farm accident.  
  
Gabe shook his shoulder lightly.  
"Don't do this to yourself, Micah," she said softly, but he kept reading.  
  
And who could forget when Sarah Pruitt, the 54 year old nurse at Central, met her demise nearly three months ago? You bet, Micah was at the center of the disaster. Now we've just received word that one month after his release from the hospital, Micah and his companion, Gabrielle Sterling, encountered yet another attempt on his life. Jeremy Spencer -- who has been undergoing extensive therapy since the event of two months ago -- tells us that Micah was "possessed by a demon, just like I was." Apparently, he thought that to rid Micah of the demon, Jeremy had to "destroy the body and release the spirit." Oh, and by the way, his therapist says that he's been heavily medicated lately. Forget the Prozac, doc -- skip straight to the shock therapy.  
  
_"Please, _Micah," she murmured. He kept reading.  
  
All I've got to say is that the towns that preceded ours -- Gatlin and Hemmingford -- didn't fare so well. If this turns into some horror movie scenario, I'm not sticking around. Once the bodies start piling, I'm out of here.  
  
Micah threw down the paper in disgust.  
"Hemmingford Horror," he growled. Gabe rubbed his shoulder soothingly.  
"It was an editorial," she said helpfully. He shook his head.  
"I'm going to my room." Micah took the wheels in his hands and gave them a hard push.  
"Micah," Gabe said quietly, but he kept heading down the hall.  
"I don't feel well." He opened the door with a sharp twist of the knob. "I'll talk to you later, Gabe." There was a long period of silence before she spoke.  
"I love you," she whispered. Micah paused.  
"I love you too, Gabe." But there was a distinct waver in his voice, so he fell silent and closed the door behind him.  
  
Micah wheeled the chair slowly towards his bed and set the brake.  
(Hemmingford Horror.)  
He put his head in his hands wearily.  
(They made it sound like it was my fault.)  
There was a quiet, shaky sigh -- it took him a moment to realize that the sound had come from his own mouth.  
(Because it _was _your fault.)  
Micah squeezed his eyes shut and let his head rest heavily in his hands.  
(It was all your fault. Everything.)  
"I didn't mean to," he mumbled in a trembling voice. "It was my fault, but I didn't mean to. I swear I didn't."  
(Sure you didn't.)  
He swallowed the painful lump in his throat.  
"I didn't mean to," Micah whispered again, and surrendered to the tears.  
  
When he finally stopped crying, Micah took a good fifteen minutes to recuperate. He knew his face would be puffy, so he wiped his eyes and waited for the redness to subside. The words of the article had stung harshly. The truth had been the worst part -- there was more there than he had anticipated. Micah gave his face one final rub with the back of his hand and wheeled out of his room.  
"Gabe?" he called slowly, glancing around. It was unusually quiet. An hour or so had gone by; breakfast had been cleaned up, and the harsh morning light was fading into afternoon.  
(Kind of unnerving. The quiet, I mean.)  
"Gabe?" Micah pushed his wheelchair into the living room.  
(What if she left...?)  
He opened his mouth to try again when two hands from behind clamped over his eyes.  
"Guess who?" breathed a voice in his ear, and it took his heart a moment to start beating again.  
"God," Micah gasped, twisting to look at her. "Gabe, you scared the hell out of me!"  
"I've been doing that rather well lately, haven't I?" She smiled at him and slipped her hands down to his shoulders. "You've been in your room for quite a while. You okay?"  
"Yeah." He relaxed a little as she started tenderly kneading at his back. It seemed like a mechanical response by now. "I'll be fine." There was a pause.  
"I heard you crying," Gabe said softly, working her thumbs in slow circles over his spine. "Are you sure you're okay?"  
"Mmn. Really, I'm fine." Micah glanced at her as she moved to see him better.  
"All right." She dropped to a knee in front of his wheelchair and took his hand lightly. "I just don't want you crying over that moron's article. That's just one person's idea, Micah." Gabe leaned closer, letting her forehead rest against his. "One idiotic, incompetent person's idea."  
"I know," he mumbled. She stared at him for a moment before a small smile curled her lips.  
"Do you remember," she said slowly, "when you said we should put our time together to good use?" Micah tried to suppress a grin and was unsuccessful.  
"Yeah." Gabe pushed his hair away from his forehead as her smile grew.  
"Well... I'm certainly open to suggestions." Micah didn't wait; he pushed forward and kissed her hard. It made him feel better for one long, comfortable moment before Gabe pulled away gently. "Yeah," she said quietly, still grinning. "Yeah, I think that works."  
(he called you the Hemmingford Horror)  
"Gabe," he said softly, lowering his gaze.  
(and she thinks you're anything but)  
"Hm?" She frowned a little. She'd noticed the newly appearing tears in his eyes.  
(and you don't deserve it)  
"I think I'm going to cry again," Micah said in a small voice, still staring at the floor. "Could you wheel me back to my room?" There was a long, awkward pause. He felt a hot tear escape his eye and slip down his cheek, but didn't bother to wipe it away.  
"No," Gabe said quietly. Micah blinked and looked up at her.  
"What?" He was genuinely surprised; she had never denied him a request before.  
"I'm not going to wheel you back to your room," she murmured, leaning closer still, "because if you go in there every time you want to cry, you're not going to feel any better. Because you'll be _alone, _and you can't heal yourself alone, Micah. As much as you may think you can retreat into your mind and lick your wounds, it's not going to work." Gabe paused, then ended the speech as she smoothed his hair gently. "I'll help in any way I can. Just don't turn away from me." Micah stared at her, the rush of tears suddenly deadened.  
"All right," he said, defeated. He wiped the remaining tears away with the back of his hand, feeling oddly embarrassed. "Fine. I won't go into my room." Gabe took his hands gently in hers and pulled them away from his face. Blue eyes were once again upon him, and Micah felt as he always did: naked, transparent, seen through.  
"Kiss me, Micah," she murmured quietly. He paused, then obeyed.  
  
And he no longer felt the need to cry.


	3. Unwelcome Visitors

--Sorry this chapter is so short and took so long. I've been sorta Micah-blocked. But I'm back! Don't own anyone but Gabe, Edith, and Jeremy. Looking for feedback, and I'm happy to be continuing!--  
  
_It's been a while  
Since I could say  
That I wasn't addicted  
It's been a while  
Since I could say  
I love myself as well as  
It's been a while  
Since I went and fucked things up  
Just like I always do  
And it's been a while  
But all that shit seems to disappear  
When I'm with you  
--_from _It's Been A While _by Staind  
  
"Connubial."  
  
Micah placed the final tial on the board with a flourish.  "Okay, that's... 15 points, including the double letter score for the 'u'... plus a triple word score.."  He paused to calculate the total in his head, then nodded.  "So that's 45 points in all."  Micah sat back with a smug smirk.  "Go on, write it down"  Gabe glared at the gameboard, pencil poised in her hand.  
"You made that up," she said slowly.  He blinked in surprise.  
"No I didn't!"  Micah jabbed a finger at the tials.  "It's a word!  45 points, mark it down!"  
"Oh, come on," Gabe scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest.  "It doesn't even _sound _like a word."  He frowned and huffed angrily.  
"It's a word!  It means 'dealing with marriage'.  Look it up if you want."  She arched a brow, smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.  It was obviously giving her great pleasure in annoying him.  
"It would just be easier to say you were wrong and pick a new word."  
"It would be even easier," Micah said slowly, making a fist and shaking it at her, "if I just hauled off and slugged you."  Gabe rolled her eyes with a grin.  
"A little competitive, are we?" she chuckled, but wrote down his score anyway.  
"Only as much as you," he said sweetly.  She totaled the points mentally and scribbled them onto the pad of paper.  
"Shut up.  Okay, so that leaves you with... 206 points, and I have--"  Gabe scowled at the result.  "-- well, it doesn't matter.  Scrabble is a stupid game anyway."  Micah grinned and swiped the scorepad away from her.  
"How much?"  He answered his own question by reading the scribbles.  Unable to help it, he laughed out loud.  "32 points?"  
"All I have are consonants," Gabe muttered, and he tossed the pad back at her.  
"Su-u-ure.  Blame it on the lack of vowels, Gabe."  She stuck her tongue out at him.  
"I could blame it on Elian Gonzales or  El Niño if I wanted to."  
_Ding-dong._  
"Doorbell," Micah said cheerfully.  The girl grinned and got to her feet.  
"Thank you, Captain Obvious."  She started for the door, then paused.  "I'll be right back.  No cheating."  Micah smothered a mock gasp.  
"_Moi?_  Cheat?"  He put the back of his hand to his forehead and let out a shuddery sigh.  "I'm hurt, Gabe.  I'm truly hurt."  
"Smart ass," Gabe snickered, disappearing into the entryway.  Micah looked back down at the gameboard and smirked.  
"Besides.  Why would I need to cheat?  I'm winning by nearly a zillion points anyway."  
"I heard that," she called distantly.  He laughed into his hand.  
"Sorry."  The door opened in the hallway.  Micah sat at the coffee table boredly, fiddling absently with the brake on his chair.  Voices could be heard distantly, but they were too quiet and far away to be clear.  He thought he caught Jeremy's voice in the muddle.  
(Poor guy.  There's some of the truth from that article.)  
Feeling a sharp pang of guilt, Micah wheeled towards the front door.  
"Hey, Gabe," he said slowly, struggling over the low bump into the entryway.  "If it's Jeremy, tell him he's welcome to play Scrabble with us.  I don't mind."  But he fell silent as he neared the front door.  Gabe was arguing with someone.  
"Look," she snapped at the visitor, "if you're here to stare at the so-called 'Hemmingford Horror', you can just turn right around and march back to that fancy car of yours.  I will _not _have--"  
"Calm down, Miss Sterling," murmured a low voice.  "We're not here to do any staring."  Micah stopped his wheelchair just out of view of the front door.  There was something about that voice.  
(familiar you've heard it before)  
"I don't care!"  That was Gabe again, still sounding considerably angry.  "You're not going to upset him any more!  You have _no _idea what he's been through--"  
"I have an inkling," muttered the other voice, and the odd familiarity poked at Micah's mind.  
(you _know _that voice)  
"Gabe," he said slowly, finally taking hold of the wheels and pushing forward again.  "Gabe, who is it?"  There was a moment of silence.  
"No one, honey.  Go back into the living room."  He didn't obey;  Micah moved closer.  
"Miss Sterling, there's something we really need to settle with Micah.  It'll only be a moment--"  
"I told you to_ leave!" _cried Gabe, clearly out of patience.  
"No," Micah said slowly, rounding the corner.  "Gabe, wait, I want to see who--"  And then he _could _see who was at the door.  His hands froze, and it felt as if his body had gone numb.  
(oh god)  
"Do you know these people, Micah?" asked Gabe reluctantly.  Micah couldn't answer.  He was staring at the group:  a tall man with brown hair, a dark-haired woman, a pretty blonde girl, and a handsome blonde boy.  
  
_("KILL THE OUTLANDERS!")_  
  
John Garrett,  
("The blood of those who defileth the corn _must _flow into the earth!")  
Angela,  
("Cut out her tongue and carve out her heart!")  
Lacey,  
("She is the first to be sacrificed!")  
and Danny.  
("Please, Danny.  You're my friend.")  
"Micah?" Gabe said again, but he couldn't look away from them.  Memories flooded his mind like a stinging rush of acid.  
(the pain oh _god _the pain)  
Danny stared back grimly.  
(he just watched while I was dying)  
"What's wrong, Micah?" Gabe asked, sounding alarmed now, but Micah had already begun to wheel backwards.  
("Please--")  
He pushed faster, desperate to get away from the staring eyes.  
("--Danny--")  
The low step down from the entryway gave the wheelchair a hard bump, but he hardly felt it.  
("--you're--")  
"Micah?" cried Gabe.  
("--my--")  
Micah regained control of the wheelchair and gave the wheels a frantic push, heading down the hall.  
("--friend.")  
He bumped past the open door and into his room, where he promptly covered his face with his hands and began to cry.  
  
("Please, Danny.  You're my friend.")  



	4. "Please don't cry."

--Don't own Micah, Lacey, Garrett, Angela, or Danny. I own Gabe and Edith. ...sorry this has taken so long. I've been kind of preoccupied lately -- as I'm sure a lot of you have. Good luck to all and God bless America.--  
  
_I wish that I could cry  
Fall upon my knees  
Find a way to lie  
'Bout a home I'll never see  
--_from _Superman _by Five For Fighting  
  
Gabe was in the room in mere seconds.  
"Micah?" she cried, dropping to her knees in front of him. "Micah, sweetheart, what's wrong?" His chest hitched; Micah glanced up to make sure they weren't behind her. When it was confirmed, he buried his face in his hands again.  
"It's -- it's noth-- nothing--" He sobbed hard, and it made his ribs ache. Gabe slid her arms around him, hugging him tightly to her chest.  
"Calm down," she whispered, and ran her hand soothingly over Micah's hair. "Calm down, calm down. Take a deep breath. It's all right."  
"N-n-no it's n-n-n--" His words kept getting caught in his throat. Frustrated and frightened and utterly worn out, Micah felt his self control snap in half. He lost it completely and felt the uncontrollable sobs spill from his mouth, making his chest twist painfully with the effort. The memories just kept coming back-- Lacey squirming in fear of the knife against her throat; Angela bound on the bed of cornstalks; Garrett impaling Mordechai with a spear; Danny standing in dumb silence while the blades ate away at Micah's legs.  
"Oh, sweetheart," Gabe murmured, her own voice thick with tears. She pressed his face to her shoulder and continued to run her fingers through his hair. "Sweetheart, I had _no idea _this would upset you so much--" Micah didn't respond. The sobs hadn't subsided yet, and all he wanted to do was disappear into the comfort of her arms. Gabe was still talking. "--_so _sorry, I had _no idea... _ I promise, it's going to be all right--"  
"Should we come back later?" The voice at the door startled them both. Micah didn't even bother to look up; his throat contracted in another painful sob and he buried his face further into the soft fabric of Gabe's shirt.  
"No," she said thinly, voice shaking -- and this time it wasn't with tears, it was quite obviously anger that made her voice tremble. "No, I do not think you should 'come back later'. I think you should leave right now and think twice before ever setting foot on my property again." The tone of Gabe's voice made Micah's sobs lessen just a little. The anger behind her words -- pure and black and terribly real -- was frightening. He didn't think he'd ever heard Gabe so mad.  
"Miss Sterling," Garrett said patiently, "we really don't want to bother you--"  
"Then _leave!" _Gabe cried, not even turning away from Micah to yell at the intruder. Angela's voice, soft and careful, came from behind the doorway.  
"Come on, John." A pause. "We'd better get going."  
"But--"  
_"Out," _Gabe ordered, and directed her next words to Micah. "I'm so sorry, honey. I had no idea they would do this to you. I'm _so _sorry." Micah's sobs had died down to dry shudders, but he couldn't seem to keep still.  
"N-n-not your f-f-fault," he whispered. There was silence. He guessed the others had left. Gabe placed her palm on his back and moved it in a slow, soothing circle.  
"Sh." Gently, she pressed her lips to the area right below his ear. "Sweetheart. Sweetheart. Oh, Micah, I'm _so _sorry..." Micah shuddered hard. He had never let himself go so far -- not even when he had nightmares of the most horrible kind -- and now felt awful for making Gabe feel so guilty. But the sudden, total shock of seeing them _here... _He hadn't thought it would be so frightening. Micah shuddered again and moved as close to Gabe as he could get. She seemed the one comforting thing in this whole personal hell.  
"I'm fine now," he said softly, pressing his forehead firmly to her shoulder. "Really. Just f--" Micah shuddered hard and had to start over. "Mm. Just fine." Gabe was silent for one long moment. She rocked him carefully back and forth, hands moving over his back in an effort to relieve the tension.  
"Are you sure?" She kissed the area below his ear again, gentle and tender. "Sweetheart. Are you sure?"  
(No, the only thing I'm sure of is that everything was fine until that bastard wrote an article about me.)  
"Positive," he mumbled, but moved even closer, despite what he had just said. Gabe didn't seem to mind. She ran her fingers through his hair carefully and whispered in his ear.  
"Do you want me to move you to the bed so you can lay down? Maybe sleep would do you good."  
"No," Micah said softly, then reconsidered. "Wait -- yes, please." Another hard shudder went through his body; he winced. "Ow."  
"All right." Gabe slid her arms around him and pulled Micah slowly from the chair, setting him carefully on the bed. He fell back tiredly against the pillow. Smiling weakly, she smoothed Micah's hair with her palm. "Feeling better? Because I just feel so bad for--"  
"Gabe." He took her free hand gently and laced their fingers together. "It's not your fault. I'm just a little... surprised. I'll be fine."  
(Understatement of the year, eh?)  
Gabe brought their laced fingers to her lips and kissed them lightly.  
"Do you want me to stay with you?" Part of him immediately clambered, "YES!", but another part of him protested.  
(Sure. Have her stay. Be weak and sickly forever, then. Are you or _aren't _you a _man_, for Christ's sake?! You've seen death and destruction, and four average people can send you into a screaming fit. Sad, isn't it?)  
Part of his mind cried feebly, yelling that he _needed _Gabe now, but the cynic in his head won the battle.  
"No, thank you," he whispered, averting his eyes. There was a short, surprised pause.  
"Are you sure?" she murmured, and stroked his hand lightly with her thumb. Micah nodded.  
"Positive." He hesitated, then offered a very weak smile. "I think I'm going to get some of that sleep you suggested." Gabe paused again.  
"All right... if you're sure." She released his hand and stood.  
"I'm sure." Micah stared solemnly up at her. Gabe began for the door, then leaned over him instead.  
"I love you," she murmured, and pressed her lips gently to his. Micah kissed back as best he could. When he pulled away, he smiled experimentally.  
"I love you too," he mumbled, and the words made him feel a little better. Gabe stroked his hair tenderly, then headed for the door.  
"Sleep well, Micah." She switched off the light and took the doorknob in her hand. "Sleep well."  
  
He awoke from frightening dreams of familiar voices and faces to the sound of a telephone ringing. Micah squinted against the sunlight of late afternoon. He didn't know how long he'd slept, and frankly, he didn't want to. The phone rang again, loud and insistent, and Micah's eyes dropped to the cordless on the nightstand.  
"Gabe," he mumbled to the air, rubbing at his face with a palm. The phone rang for a third time. With a sleepy groan, Micah picked up the cordless and jabbed the talk button. He opened his mouth to say hello, but Gabe had just picked it up.  
"Hello," she asked, and it sounded worn out, weary.  
"Miss Sterling," began a deep voice that hurried on, "Please, don't hang up. Hear me out."  
(Garrett.)  
Micah's fingers tightened around the phone. He listened hard.  
"Mr. Garrett." Gabe's voice was tight and angry. "I believe I made myself _quite clear--_"  
"Please, Miss Sterling, I have a favor to ask of you. If you'll just--"  
"Favor?!" she cried, her tone high and cracked. "You nearly sent poor Micah into a nervous breakdown, and now you want a _favor?"_ Micah gripped the phone even tighter and pressed his ear hard to the reciever.  
"Please, Miss Sterling. I am a reporter at Newsweek, and my editor would like me to write a follow-up story on Mr. Balding." There was a short pause.  
"I still have not been told how you and Micah know each other," Gabe said thinly. Garrett took in a slow breath.  
"It's a long story. One I would be happy to tell you, but first -- let me ask you the favor." Another pause. Micah felt his breath quicken a little, but he managed to stay quiet enough to remain unnoticed.  
"Go on." Gabe sounded defeated. "I'm waiting."  
"My editor would like me and my family to travel to a town called Hemmingford for a little while, and she wants Micah there too." There was a sharp sucking in of breath; Garrett hurried on. "It won't be long, Miss Sterling, just a week or so--"  
"I'm afraid you'll have to talk to Micah," Gabe said stiffly. "Until then, I advise you don't--" Micah found his voice at last.  
"No, Gabe, I'm here." He was embarrassed to hear his words shake a little. "I'm on the extension in my bedroom."  
"Micah," she murmured. "When did you wake up?" She hurried on before he could answer. "Mr. Garrett wants to ask you something." There was an uncomfortable pause.  
"Um..." Garrett paused, then spoke quickly. "Micah, I'm doing a follow-up story on--"  
"I heard," Micah muttered.  
"Oh. Anyway, would you mind a week-long vacation in Hemmingford? Just to take a few interviews, maybe a news report--"  
"Some vacation." Micah rubbed at his eyes wearily. "It's not exactly something I'd jump at the opportunity for, Mr. Garrett." Garrett paused.  
"You'd be free to bring your family. Miss Sterling and Ms. Hoffman would be welcome to come with you." Gabe was silent. Micah cleared his throat a little.  
(I don't want to go)  
"This is a very difficult decision, Mr. Garrett," he said evenly.  
(difficult my ass I _don't want to go)  
_"I understand that, Micah. And I'm not forcing you into anything." Micah gripped the phone hard. He knew he didn't want to go, but if he didn't... it would just be running away from his past. He'd done that enough lately.  
(but I don't want to go _please _don't make me go)  
"...but this is a very important piece," Garrett was still saying, "and I would really appreciate your help." Micah's throat tightened painfully; his eyes stung with hot new tears. He was glad Gabe could only hear him, not see him.  
"Sort of like I owe it to you, don't I?" Micah asked drily. It was the unspoken thought -- Garrett coughed slightly to break the awkward silence.  
"I didn't say that."  
"Oh, but you were thinking it." Micah smirked, but the tears were still fresh in his eyes and threatening to spill. In all truthfulness, it scared the hell out of him to think about going back... _there._ "Gabe," he said quietly, the edge to his tone softening. "What do you think?"  
"I think," she said, voice closer and louder than he had expected, "that you look like you need to do this." Micah glanced up -- Gabe was in the doorway, the other cordless phone forgotten in her hand. Embarrassed, he raked the back of his hand over his eyes.  
"I don't--"  
"If you don't want to go, Micah," she murmured, sitting beside him on the bed, "then don't go. But if you think this will stop the -- the nightmares and the memories, you should go." Gabe lifted a hand and lightly touched his cheek, where a teardrop had fallen unheeded. "You should go, Micah," she said softly. Micah swallowed hard, forcing the painful lump back into his stomach.  
(but I don't want to go)  
"I'll go," he whispered to Garrett. Gabe smiled, somewhat sadly, and lifted the reciever of her phone to her ear.  
"When are we leaving, Mr. Garrett?"  
"I'd like to leave tomorrow at nine a.m., if you don't mind," Garrett said, sounding relieved.  
"I'll call the hospital tomorrow and see if Edith and I can get a week off." Gabe ran her free hand soothingly over Micah's hair, the mournful smile still on her lips.  
"Yes, Miss Sterling. Call me if you have any questions. My hotel number is 555-1726. And Micah--" His attention was drawn back to the tinny voice on the phone. "--thank you very much for your cooperation. We'll do our best to make this situation... as casual as possible."  
"Yes, Mr. Garrett," Micah said quietly. Without a goodbye, the phone clicked; Garrett was gone. Micah and Gabe hung up in silence. There was a long, awkward pause.  
"Would you like to tell me what happened?" Gabe asked softly, stroking his hair tenderly. Micah felt more hot tears escape his eyes and stream down his cheeks.  
"No," he croaked, his voice cracking. "No, Gabe, I can't tell you, not yet--" She pulled him to her chest and hugged him hard.  
"All right." She rocked him back and forth carefully. "All right, not yet. But later? Later you _will _tell me what's wrong?" Micah pressed his face into her shirt, embarrassment making his face hot.  
"Later," he confirmed shakily, and bit back a quiet sob.  
"All right," Gabe repeated. She kissed the top of his head gently. "Now calm down, honey. Oh, God, _please _calm down. Just stop crying... I can't stand it when you cry." The tone of her voice only made the rush of tears stronger; Micah felt horrible for making Gabe sad. He tried to hide his tears -- the sound of it, at least.  
"Sorry." He felt arms slowly wrap around him.  
"Oh, don't be sorry. Just feel better, sweetheart. Because everything's going to be fine." Gabe pressed another soft kiss to his hair and hugged him soothingly. "Everything's going to be fine." But everything wasn't going to be fine.  
  
Because they were going to Hemmingford.  
  
Micah wheeled slowly out of his room, glancing about. His tears had finally subsided, so when his face was no longer puffy and sore, he decided it was time to come out of the hole. Gabe was in the living room, watching TV with her head propped dejectedly up on her hand. When she spotted him, her face broke into a tentative smile.  
"Feeling better?" she murmured. Micah wheeled towards her, situating the chair between the couch and the coffee table.  
"A little," he admitted, and smiled. Gabe stroked his shoulder lovingly.  
"I don't want you to cry anymore." She leaned over to give him a brief hug. "I don't want you to cry anymore, so please don't." Micah turned the short hug into a long one, wrapping his arms tightly around her.  
"I won't," he said softly, and pressed a light kiss against the side of her head. "And thank you for putting up with me, Gabe." She laughed quietly in his ear and pulled back slightly.  
"Putting up with you? Because, you know, it's _such _ a chore to be around one as sexy as Micah Balding." He flushed a little and leaned back into his chair.  
"You're _so _funny." Gabe paused, then smiled broadly.  
"You're blushing," she pointed out, biting her lip to hide the grin. Micah blinked in surprise and rubbed at his cheek.  
"I am not."  
"You are too!" Gabe giggled quietly. "It's okay. I rather like that shade of pink on you." He felt his face burning a little more, but he couldn't hold back a smile.  
"I'll blush lavender if you want me to," Micah said softly. She laughed again and leaned forward, pressing a light kiss against his forehead.  
"That's not necessary." Gabe opened her mouth to say something when the phone rang.  
"I'll get it," he said quickly, and wheeled towards the phone on the wall. Micah stretched a bit to grab it, but managed. "Hello?" he said, feeling cheerful for the first time in a long time.  
"Is this Micah Balding?" murmured a girl's voice. Micah blinked in surprise and raised his eyebrows.  
"Um... yes, it is. May I ask who's--"  
"No, you may not, because you know who it is." The voice wasn't soft anymore; it was fast and harsh with an edge that made Micah uncomfortable.  
"I'm afraid I don't," he said slowly.  
"Oh, you know who I am. You almost killed me, you little bastard."  
("Danny, get me out of here! ...you little bastard!")  
"Lacey?" Micah whispered, and caught Gabe looking at him from the living room. He turned the wheelchair so she couldn't see his face. "Lacey, listen, you have to let me explain--"  
"Oh. You've got an _explanation. _Well, by all means!" Lacey's voice was cold and dripped sarcasm. "This ought to be a doozy." Micah grasped for words.  
("SHE IS THE FIRST TO BE SACRIFICED!")  
"Lacey, I thought Garrett explained--"  
"Explained what, Micah?" Lacey demanded. "You're wondering if he gave me a good excuse for why you held a knife to my throat and nearly had my boyfriend chop me to pieces?"  
"Lacey," Micah said, trying to be patient. "Please--"  
"Or what about a reason for why you killed the only family I had left? Or _maybe _he told me why it was perfectly okay for you to turn an entire town into a living Hell!" Micah pressed the receiver harder to his ear as if it would help get his point across.  
_"Lacey--"_  
"Yes, Micah!" she screeched, voice tinny and distant. "Yes, he told me why! And it was the shittiest excuse I'd ever heard!"  
"Lacey," he said again, insistent. "Please, Lacey, it's the truth! I was--"  
_"Possessed?" _ She was nearly screaming now. _"Is that what you want me to believe, Micah? That you were possessed?!"_ He started to protest, desperate and panicked -- and then he stopped. It _hadn't _been his fault. It _hadn't _been his choice to be possessed, nor had it been his choice to kill. So there was no reason to be sorry. No reason to be begging for forgiveness.  
"You know what, Lacey?" Micah said coolly. "Screw you." There was a short, shocked silence -- and then Lacey recovered.  
"I just want to warn you to stay away from me on this trip, Micah," she hissed.  
"It'll be my pleasure." Micah sneered at the reciever and hung it up harshly. Gabe spoke from behind, voice soft and careful.  
"Who was that?" He turned the wheelchair slowly and watched her for one long moment. Then, at last, he smiled experimentally.  
"Don't worry about it." Micah wheeled slowly towards her and took her hand, being infintely gentle. "I've just decided that I'm not going to cry anymore over this trip." Gabe still looked worried; she watched him intently as he wheeled past her and into the living room.  
"Micah," she murmured.  
"What's on TV tonight?" he asked complacently. And the matter had been dropped. There were no more phone calls after that.


	5. Let's Roll

--Still don't own anyone but Gabe and Edith. Stephen King can keep Garrett and Company, but I want Micah. MINE, ALL MINE! ^_^ Songs property of their owners listed. Reviews are cherished and loved to little bits.--  
  
_I'm trying to keep my feet on the ground  
I'm getting to like this feeling I've found  
I'm getting to love  
The thought of having you around  
--_from _Never Let You Down _by Verve Pipe  
  
The next morning, all affairs had been arranged. Gabe had wheeled a sleepy Micah to the driveway, where they both waited for Edith with their suitcases.  
"Garrett said he'd be here by nine," Gabe said cheerily. "It's 8:50 now, so when Edith gets out here with the bags, we can be in the van and ready to go." Micah rubbed at his eyes wearily. Sleep had not come easily last night, and it was much earlier than he usually woke up.  
"You are _such _a morning person," he grumbled. Gabe just snickered and ruffled his hair happily.  
"I know! And all this energy without a drop of coffee." She pressed a light kiss to the top of his head.  
"It's sickening," Micah muttered, but he smiled anyway. The front door banged open; there was Edith, three or four suitcases in her arms. She was a big woman, but it was still quite funny to see her thundering out of the house carrying as much luggage as an airport baggage cart.  
"Ready to go?" she called merrily. Gabe straightened, placing a hand lightly on the back of Micah's neck.  
"Yes. Garrett should be here any minute. Micah--" She glanced down at him and chewed her lower lip worriedly. "--are you sure you're okay?"  
"I'm fine," he said, and smiled to emphasize the words.  
(Of course I'm fine. I'm not in Hemmingford yet.)  
Edith rumbled towards the van and tossed the bags unceremoniously into the back.  
"All right, everybody," she shouted. "Into the van." Micah looked helplessly up to Gabe.  
"I'm so tired," he said softly. "Can you help me with the--"  
"Yes, sweetheart." She smiled gently, running her hand over his black hair. "I'll help you with the lift." Micah gave her a meek grin.  
"Thanks." Gabe wheeled him slowly over to the van. In a matter of minutes, the lift was secured and the chair was situated; she patted his shoulder reassuringly, then dodged over the other side of the van.  
"Do you need anything, sweetheart?" she asked gently. Micah rubbed again at his eyes.  
"My CD player, maybe," he murmured. Gabe retrieved it immediately and dug around in the back.  
"What do you want to listen to?"  
"Ah--" Micah glanced in the rearview mirror. Edith was fussing around with the few bags she hadn't loaded yet, and there was the cherry red car pulling slowly into the driveway behind the van. He swallowed hard. This was it -- no turning back. "--how about the CD you made for me?"  
"Micah's Party Mix?" Gabe snickered, and handed it over. "Sure thing." He took it, absently fitting it into the player.  
"I really wish you hadn't called it that."  
"I like it," she said cheerfully. Gabe was searching under her seat for something. "It sounds festive."  
"Festive my ass," he said with a playful sneer. "It sounds homosexual." She found what she was looking for; a Stephen King book. It seemed to Micah that she was never without a book by the so-called 'Master of Horror'.  
"Such language." Gabe raised her eyebrows and flipped to the spot she had marked with a wrinkled napkin.  
"Very funny." He situated the headphones over his ears. "What dark, morbid, and twisted book have you got this time?" She sat back in her seat comfortably.  
" 'Needful Things'. Pretty thick, but I'll get through it in time." Micah glanced at the rearview mirror again. Garret and Company was sitting impatiently in their fancy red car. He looked quickly back to his lap, where the CD player rested.  
"Enjoy," he said absently. "I'm going to listen to music, n'kay?"  
"N'kay," she agreed, and smiled. "I'll let you know when we're gonna stop."  
"Sure thing." Micah pressed play, then sat back just as Edith hurried into the front seat.  
"Let's roll," she said cheerfully, and they were on their way.  
  
In Micah's ears, Verve Pipe was proclaiming their loyalty and devotion to some unknown source.  
_  
I'm trying to keep my feet on the ground  
I'm getting to like this feeling I've found  
I'm getting to love  
The thought of having you around  
  
_He shot a sideways glance at Gabe, who had her nose buried in her book. They'd only been on the road for half an hour and she'd finished five chapters.  
(I'm certainly loving the thought of having you around, Gabe.)  
The thought brought an unconscious smile to his face, and she looked briefly up to him.  
"What are you grinning about?" Gabe asked. Micah slid off the headphones.  
"Oh, nothing," he said lightly. She grinned herself and closed the book, folding the napkin as a bookmark.  
"It seems you've finally woken up." Gabe paused, then carefully brushed some hair away from his face. "For a while, you were so dizzy I was beginning to expect you were on crack." He stuck his tongue out at her.  
"Funny. Very funny. I can't help it if I'm not a morning person."  
"Yeah, yeah." Gabe cracked a grin and gave his shoulder a comforting squeeze. "You gonna fall asleep again? You look pretty tired." Micah shook his head a little.  
"Nah." He paused, then glanced ahead of their van. The Garretts' car was leading the way to Hemmingford. "I'm good." Gabe's fingers crept behind his neck.  
"I know this probably sounds funny... but you're looking kind of pale," she murmured. Micah smiled wryly.  
"Smart ass."  
"No, really!" Gabe kneaded the back of his neck idly. "What's that one old song...? 'Whiter Shade of Pale.' " Micah's dry smile turned into a dark smirk.  
"Yeah, that's me," he murmured. She rolled her eyes, grin widening.  
"Such a cynic," she said mildly, and lightly tickled the back of his neck. Micah jerked away with a smothered laugh.  
"That's not fair!" He pressed his body against the wall of the van. "I've got nowhere else to go!"  
"Which makes it all the more fun," Gabe declared, but let him off with a playful tousle of his hair. Micah grinned and repositioned the headphones over his ears.  
"See why I sleep on most car trips? Otherwise, I get abused." Gabe raised her eyebrows.  
"Abused?" she echoed, and wiggled her fingers threateningly. "Watch your mouth. I'm the one with the upper hand, Micah dear."  
"Forgive me," he cried, leaning harder against the wall. "I repent! I repent!"  
"You are forgiven," Gabe said with a smile, and reopened her book. Micah relaxed a bit.  
"The things I put up with," he muttered with a smirk. Gabe looked up and dropped 'Needful Things' to the floor of the van.  
"Oh, that's it." Micah knew what was coming before it even happened; he squeaked apprehensively and tried to pull away.  
"No!" he cried. But Gabe didn't listen. She dug her fingers playfully into his sides and stomach, giggling to herself as he squirmed.  
"Insult me, will you," she snickered. Micah laughed helplessly and twisted to get out of reach.  
"Don't!" He laughed again, but Gabe didn't let up.  
"Settle down, you two," Edith called over her shoulder. "You're distracting me from the road." Gabe tickled his sides a little longer, then stopped.  
"You got off lucky this time." Micah's snickering eased; he relaxed back in his wheelchair.  
"You're mean," he said, and stuck his tongue out at her. Gabe raised her eyebrows.  
"My my my," she murmured, picking up her book again. "Someone's pushing their luck today." Micah readied his CD player.  
"How do you think I get any exercise?" He smirked and pressed the 'play' button.  
"Be good," Gabe warned, and smiled. "I'll let you know when we're stopping for lunch."  
"N'kay," he agreed. Micah leaned his head back and let his eyes drift closed as the music began playing. Gabe said something that was inaudible, then stroked his cheek lightly. He felt a faint smile surface and leaned into her touch. "Love you," he murmured. Through Everclear's steady beat, Micah heard Gabe's reply: "Love you too." Then he drifted off into the music, forgetting everything around him -- except Gabe.  
  
_Death. All around him, there was death; the townspeople were burning, the Indian was bleeding, and a spear was heading straight for Mordechai. He watched in dull, helpless horror as the sharp point buried itself in the older boy's stomach and emerged from his back, dripping blood. Mordechai's blood. Mordechai, who had been his friend as long as he could remember; Mordechai, who had played tag and hide and seek and checkers; Mordechai, who was bleeding from the mouth and slowly dying. His heart cried, and it cried hard -- but He Who Walks Behind The Rows was not finished. His vessel was still strong, and He was going to use it.  
"The blood of those that defileth the corn MUST flow into the earth!" he heard himself scream. "Kneel!" Garrett, Angela, Lacey, and Danny stood before him, but not for long; the Children shoved them to their knees when they refused to obey. "KNEEL!" he bellowed again. He raised the scythe to spill the blood that would nourish the corn. And then pain, pain as he had never felt before surged through him -- but it was followed by power. Immense, throbbing power, frightening in its intensity. He shrieked, simply because he felt he couldn't stand it, and the Beast could feel it too. The Beast shrieked along with him, but it was triumphant, even behind the pain. And while the power surged and the pain pulsed, the Harvester was gaining on them.  
  
And suddenly, his screams turned very real.  
  
The Harvester seized him from behind. His robe was caught, caught tightly; he screamed now in pain and terror. If the sudden surge of power had hurt, it was merely a pinprick now. He screamed again, throat burning with harsh sound. Mordechai lay dead on the ground a few feet away; his lips were stained with crimson blood, and his eyes were open, blank, glassy. He knew that soon -- he would be just like his friend, Mordechai.  
  
Very soon.  
  
He screamed again.  
  
_Micah jolted awake, able to repress the scream welling in his throat. He was grateful for that, too; it would be unthinkable to shriek in such a place. Trying to be quiet, he slipped the headphones from his ears.  
"Gabe--" he began, and stopped. She was leaning comfortably back in her chair, cheek pressed against the seat headrest. Asleep. Micah smiled faintly, studying her face carefully. Gabe's blonde lashes rested lightly against her tanned cheeks, and her chest rose and fell slightly every time she inhaled. Her lips were parted just enough for him to hear Gabe's soft whispers of breath. He smiled involuntarily and touched her cheek very lightly. "Love you," he said softly, stroking her face with his fingertip. Gabe stirred a little. She mumbled something incoherently, then lapsed back into silent sleep. Micah pulled his finger away and smiled again. He really did love her, and ever since he had said it for the first time, he couldn't seem to say it enough.  
"You awake, Micah?" Edith said, quiet enough so as not to wake Gabe.  
"Yeah," he murmured. "I'm awake."  
"Good." She glanced briefly over her shoulder and grinned. "We'll be in Hemmingford in another half hour or so. Mr. Garrett doesn't want to stop for lunch yet; do you think you can wait another 30 minutes?" Micah caught another glimpse of the red car, trying not to wince.  
"Yeah, I'll be fine." He turned his gaze to the window and sighed softly. "Just fine." He stared at the passing cornfields and tried to keep his mind off of the dream, but somehow the images always drifted back, even when he closed his eyes. No matter how hard he squeezed them shut, his eyelids displayed Mordechai -- drowning in his own blood, clutching the spear in his stomach with surprised hands, slowly falling over and knowing that he was going to die. At last, Micah surrendered and opened his eyes to look at Gabe. She made him feel better, but only for a moment. Because it was at that moment he remembered -- they were going to Hemmingford.  
  
And, as hard and long as he had kept it secret, she was going to know what happened there.


	6. Familiar Faces

--La la LA! Sorry, that just felt appropriate. ^_^ Don't own anyone but Edith and Gabe. Everyone else is property of Stephen King, great guy that he is. Songs property of the owners listed, and keep the reviews comin'!--  
  
_If I could  
Then I would  
I'll go wherever you will go  
Wait up I  
Fall down low  
I'll go wherever you will go  
--_from _Wherever You Go _by The Calling_  
_  
Before he was even aware he was asleep, Micah was drifting awake. One slender finger was stroking his nose, bringing him back into conciousness.  
"Mmn." He frowned sleepily and tried to squirm away. "Mmph -- _stop --" _Micah heard a soft laugh.  
"Wake up, sweetheart," Gabe murmured. "We're almost to Hemmingford." He cracked an eyelid at her and scowled.  
"M' _tired," _he mumbled, turning his face to the door. "I wanna _sleep." _Micah's head was swimming and pounding, and the last thing he wanted to do was pull out of the warmth of sleep.  
"You have to wake up, honey." Gabe stroked his forearm lightly, running the tip of her finger over his skin. "Micah. Wake up."  
_"No..." _he whined, and pulled away. There was a pause. Then, carefully, she took his chin and made his eyes meet hers. Micah blinked sleepily. "I'm tired," he mumbled piteously. His small headache had turned into a splitting migraine, and the pain nearly brought tears to his eyes. "Please, just let me--" But before he could say 'sleep', Gabe pressed her lips tenderly to his. The kiss was warm and gentle; it lasted a few long moments before she finally drew away. Micah watched her in surprise -- there had been something different about her that time. He couldn't pinpoint what, but the kiss had certainly woken him up.  
"We're here," Gabe said quietly.  
  
Micah felt his insides crawl in fear.  
"Oh?" he said softly, trying to sound nonchalant. Gabe, still rather close to his face, ran the tip of her finger over his cheekbone.  
"We've stopped at a gas station. Edith went in for some soda. We'll be at the Inn in a few minutes." She offered a weak smile. "You all right?"  
"Certainly." Micah flashed her the most authentic grin he could muster. Gabe didn't buy it. He hesitated, then spoke quietly. "You didn't have to come, Gabe," he murmured. She was silent for a moment; her blue eyes looked thoughtful and cloudy. Gentle fingertips moved carefully over his strands of black hair. Then, at last, she whispered,  
"I would never let you do this on your own. _Never. _No matter what happened. Micah, I'm going wherever you go -- and I'm going to help you through this." There was another short pause. Gabe pressed her mouth tenderly to his, and Micah felt that unidentifiable trace of _something_ again. He felt a quick chill -- for a moment, he even thought the hairs on his arms stood up -- but it passed and he put his hands behind her head, tangling his fingers in her hair.  
"Ah--" There was a soft voice venturing from the open van window. "--am I interrupting something?" Micah pulled away from Gabe quickly, already feeling his face flush.  
"Danny," he murmured. Gabe leaned back in her seat, and Micah noticed with mild amusement that she was an interesting shade of pink as well. The blonde boy leaned on the car door, looking a little embarrassed.  
"Yeah -- uh --" He glanced at Gabe and smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry." He extended a hand towards her. "I'm Danny Garrett."  
"Pleasure," Gabe murmured, and took his hand to shake it. She was still rather red in the face. Danny turned his gaze back to Micah.  
"Um, Micah," he said, and grinned weakly. "Been a while, huh?" Micah rubbed at his cheeks and hoped that he wasn't as pink as Gabe.  
"Yeah." He smiled thinly. "S' been quite a while."  
(Last time I saw you, you were staring at me like some idiot while I got eaten up by a Harvester.)  
Danny shifted uncomfortably.  
"Well, I caught Lacey using the phone last night, and I heard some of the things she was saying to you." He rubbed at the nape of his neck awkwardly with one tanned hand. "I'm sorry. She's just been kind of -- wired lately." Gabe shot Micah a look -- one that said 'Oh, really?' -- but he tried to pretend he didn't see.  
"Understandable," Micah murmured.  
"Um..." Danny shifted from one foot to the other. The car horn a few spaces over honked loudly; he looked relieved as he glanced over his shoulder. "I gotta go. See ya when we get to the Inn." Danny offered them one last grin. "Nice meeting you--" He paused, not knowing her name.  
"Gabe," she said, and tried to smile.  
"Nice meeting you, Gabe," he said quickly, and hurried off to Garrett's car. They both watched him leave, silent for a few moments.  
"That... was so... embarrassing," Gabe murmured. Micah snickered into his hand, trying to cover his own embarrassment.  
"Yeah." He shot a sidelong glance at her. She was staring after Danny, and Micah felt a faint wave of irrational jealousy. But after the whole incident with 'Jeremiah', he knew better than to trust his testosterone-induced anger. "Nice jeans he's wearing, huh?" he asked, and smiled with the corner of his mouth. Gabe looked at him, eyes wide and surprised.  
"What are you--" Then she saw his teasing grin and relaxed. "Oh-- oh, you little--" Gabe unbuckled her seatbelt. Micah saw the threatening movement and leaned hard against the van door again.  
"Not fair!" he cried. "Unable to walk!" She slung her arms around his neck, then pressed her forehead against his.  
"Are you suggesting," she murmured, "that I was looking at Danny's end region?" Micah grinned widely and decided to tempt fate.  
"I call 'em as I see 'em." He made a playful face at her. "Your eyes were so big when you stared at his ass I thought they'd fall out of your head." Gabe raised her eyebrows.  
"They were not!" Then she smiled, though it looked reluctant. "Danny isn't half as sexy as you," she murmured. Micah felt his face grow warm, a blush creeping down into his collar.  
"Sure, sure," he mumbled. Gabe smile grew into a grin, the corners of her mouth twitching slightly.  
"I speak only the truth." Then she paused and seemed to sober. "We're gonna be okay, Micah." She nuzzled her nose lightly against his cheek. "Promise."  
"Thanks," he said softly. Gabe moved closer to his nose, nuzzling carefully.  
"Love you," she murmured. Micah glanced sideways, out the window; Garrett and Company were still waiting impatiently in their car, and Edith was still inside the gas station. Apparently, buying soda was no easy task around Hemmingford. He returned his gaze back to her face and let a smile surface.  
"Love you too." Micah tipped his head to meet her lips, pressing them to his in a tender kiss. Gabe's arms tightened around his neck; he was just beginning to forget how close to Hell he was when the car door banged open and in lumbered Edith with a few 24 packs of Diet Pepsi.  
"We're ready to--" she began, and grinned when they both pulled away. They were a second too late -- Edith had already seen, and the broad smile on her face showed that. "Well well well," she said teasingly, sliding the cases of soda into the back seat. "Can't leave you two alone for a minute, can I?" Micah smiled through yet another flush of embarrassment.  
"Guess not." Gabe hurried back to her seat and clicked the seatbelt into place.  
"Don't be jealous, Edith," she said cheerfully. Micah glanced at her sideways.  
(Quite cute when she's red in the face.)  
He smirked.  
"On our way to Hemmingford, then?" Edith asked over her shoulder. A chill swept through Micah.  
"On our way," he said, voice softer. Gabe reached over and took his hand in hers, squeezing it gently.  
"Promise," she whispered. Micah glanced at her and smiled weakly.  
"Thanks."  
(Even cuter when she's the only thing standing between me and a complete nervous breakdown.)  
He laced their fingers together with care. Edith started the engine.  
"Stop whispering back there." She glanced in the rearview mirror and glimpsed the Garretts' car pulling out of the gas station. "We should be in Hemmingford in about 15 minutes."  
"Grand," he muttered. Gabe didn't hear, and he was glad for it. Micah turned his gaze out the window. "Simply grand."  
  
The van pulled slowly up the long, winding driveway. Hemmingford, Micah had noted, was still quiet and sleepy -- but there weren't nearly as many people as there had been before. Oh, sure, there were a few locals on the street, but not many.  
(Wonder why.)  
A tight knot of fear settled in his chest, one he couldn't swallow away. It was going to be quite a vacation.  
"Beautiful town," Edith said merrily.  
(Sure. It's fucking Suburbia.)  
Micah glanced around worriedly, the tightness in his chest increasing.  
(don't wanna be here I _don't)  
_Gabe touched his shoulder lightly.  
"You okay?" she murmured, thumb moving in a slow circle over the base of his neck. He looked to her and forced a smile.  
"Peachy," he said softly, and his chest tightened painfully. Gabe stroked the folds of his t-shirt with great care.  
"I'll help you with your chair."  
"No, dear," Edith said, pulling the keys out of the ignition. "I'll get him out. You get the bags ready to unload." She looked a little reluctant, but Gabe drew her hand back.  
"N'kay." Gabe turned and climbed into the back of the van ato dig through the luggage. The door of the van slid open; sunlight flooded into Micah's eyes, and he was able to see the Come Sleep With Me Bed 'N Breakfast behind Edith's large form.  
(Come Sleep With Me. Appropriate title, eh, Angela?)  
He smirked at the memory as Edith lowered the lift -- and then he stopped. There was someone running out of the Inn.  
"You're _alive!" _shrieked the bouncing mop of blonde hair, and bounded towards him. He stiffened.  
"Uh--" Micah's wheelchair hit the ground with a thump. His vision adjusted to the bright light; now he could see who it was -- and he almost wished he couldn't. "Ruth," Micah said weakly, forcing a polite smile. The girl -- if you could call her that; Micah thought she looked more like a blonde curly mop -- clasped her hands worriedly in front of her.  
"Oh -- oh God --" Ruth shifted a little from foot to foot with nervous energy. Her eyes flicked over the wheelchair quickly, then back to him. "Micah--"  
"Ruth," he said again, and wondered if she was just making sure he knew his own name. Unable to bear it any longer, Ruth threw her arms around Micah's neck, who made a surprised noise of discomfort.  
"You don't know how much I've missed you, it's been months, simply _months--" _Her words were coming out in a frantic flood, and he almost had trouble understanding her. "--I was so worried, Micah, I was sure you were dead--"  
"Almost," Micah said drily, stiff under her touch. Ruth pulled away, almost as if on some silent cue, and blushed furiously.  
"I'm -- I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me--" She blushed even harder and glanced at a tree, pretending to be interested in it. Edith lumbered past them, suitcases in her arms.  
" 'Lo," she said cheerfully to Ruth, and went through the front door. Recovering, Ruth whirled towards Edith and did a small cursey. Micah didn't think anyone curtseyed anymore.  
"How do you do?" she said politely, then turned -- and stopped. Micah glanced over his shoulder to see what she was staring at. He saw Gabe, looking around curiously and climbing out of the van.  
"Looks like something out of Better Homes And Gardens," she murmured, and grinned. Gabe paused, jammed her hands into her pockets, then trotted over towards them. Micah noted with mild pleasure that Ruth was looking stiff. Her mouth worked a little, then finally clenched into something of a controlled smile.  
"Care to introduce us, Micah?" Ruth asked through her false courtesy. He had to repress a grin; it had been quite a while since he'd seen Ruth, and he'd forgotten how much she annoyed him.  
"Gabe, this is--" His hands gestured expressively towards the other girl. "--an _acquaintance _of mine, Ruth." Micah sounded casual, but his choice of words made Ruth bristle. She tried to hide it, but he saw anyway. His grin grew. "And Ruth, this is Gabe." Ruth's eyes flicked towards Gabe, who was glancing around with mild interest. Only half aware of what she was doing, Gabe placed her hands on Micah's shoulders to knead them gently. Something to keep her hands limber, he supposed, but his smile split into a broad grin at her touch. He couldn't have asked for anything better. "Did I mention," Micah said lazily, leaning back in his wheelchair, "that Gabe's my girlfriend?" The color drained from Ruth's face; she pressed her lips together in a thin line.  
"Oh," she said, and tried to smile. It didn't work out. Micah felt a faint pang of guilt, but she had been one of the Children who stared while he slowly got eaten by the Harvester. And she had been quite... _friendly _with him before, the way she was always hanging around and constantly touching his shoulder. Yet when the time for friends had been crucial, where was she? Running around, screaming her mop of a head off about how He was coming and they had to repent. Much as he hated to admit it, Micah was getting pleasure from watching Ruth squirm.  
"Nice to meet you," Gabe said cheerfully, and moved her thumbs in slow circles over his back.  
"The same," Ruth said stiffly. Gabe turned her attention back to Micah and kissed the top of his head lightly.  
"I'm going in to help Edith with the bags. You coming?"  
"Sure," he agreed, and flashed Ruth a false smile. "Nice seeing you again, Ruth." She watched him for one long, uncomfortable moment, then down at her tennis shoes.  
"Yeah." Her mouth twitched into a dry smile. "Nice seeing you again." Micah's fake smile twitched into a smirk as Gabe helped him over the bump and into the house.  
(Take that, bitch. I wasn't your boyfriend before, and I'm not now. So _there.)_  
  
Gabe pushed him carefully through the hallway, glancing into doorways.  
"Anyone home?" she called, and her voice echoed eerily. Garrett and Company had pulled off into another street after a brief conversation; they had another pitstop to make, so they'd meet up with Micah and the rest later. Apparently, their task wasn't accomplished yet.  
"Hello?" Micah chimed in. Gabe reached the end of the hallway and turned into the dining room.  
"I don't think anyone's here," she murmured into his ear. He leaned his head back against the seat and sighed quietly.  
"Maybe we'll have some time to ourselves." Gabe gave a soft laugh and pressed her nose briefly into his hair.  
"You can only hope." They went quietly through the silent kitchen. "No one here," she said.  
"I guess no one but Garrett and his family stay in the Bed 'N Breakfast now." Micah turned around to smile at Gabe. "That means we'll have plenty of time to--" Her face broke into a broad grin and she tweaked his nose playfully.  
"Get your mind out of the gutter," she snickered, and then stopped. Her eyes drifted past him, and Micah turned to look at what she'd seen.  
"What's wr--" he began, and stopped as abruptly as Gabe. The living room was filled with children. About fifteen of them, he estimated -- sprawled on couches, sitting in chairs, lying on the floor. They looked up to him with wide, frightened eyes, and Micah realized something even more startling than the room full of silent children.  
  
He knew every one of them.  
  
These were the Children of the Corn.


	7. While You're Sleeping

--Gabe and Edith are still mine. Nothing's changed; I still don't own anyone cool. Oh, but wait! I'm sure we're all eagerly anticipating the release of COTC7 this Saturday! *crosses fingers* Can we hear a 'Micah's Return'? Heh, very unlikely, but not impossible!--  
  
_And then I saw her face  
Now I'm a believer  
Not a trace  
Of doubt in my mind  
I'm in love  
I'm a believer  
I couldn't leave her if I tried  
--_from _Believer _by Smash Mouth  
  
There was complete and total silence for about 30 seconds before Gabe finally broke the tension with a nervous laugh.  
"Guess we found the party," she said jokingly, but her hand squeezed Micah's shoulder firmly. It was more for her own comfort than his, and it showed him that she was just as unnerved as he.  
"Micah," murmured one of the little girls. it swept through the room as a collective whisper.  
"Micah." He forced a smile. Yes, he knew every one of them; Jezebel, Matthew, Esther, Jacob, Luke... everyone.  
"Hello," he whispered. The children shifted a little, their eyes blank and expressionless. Just like they had been  
("_Somebody!")_  
the night of the harvest moon  
("Somebody! _Help me!")_  
when he had lost his legs. Almost as if hearing his thoughts, the children lowered their eyes in silent guilt.  
"You want to tell me who these people are?" Gabe asked through her false smile, glancing at Micah. He ran a hand through his hair and let out a small sigh. He did _not _want to deal with this right now.  
"Later, Gabe," he whispered. She frowned, her fake smile collapsing.  
"You can't tell me _everything _later, Micah," she murmured, sure to keep her voice down. "You have to tell me at least _something. _I have absoloutely no idea what's going on here--"  
"Micah?" They both glanced up. Micah's once troubled face broke into a wide grin.  
"Jedediah!" he exclaimed, and Gabe leaned away in quiet resentment. The curly brown-haired boy trotted towards them; he looked very briefly at the wheelchair and then back up to Micah.  
"I haven't seen you in--" Jedediah gestured around helplessly with his hands. "--oh, forever." Micah grinned, surprised how happy he was to see his old friend.  
"Yeah. Ruth told me." Jed laughed a little.  
"She's told _everyone," _he said, and looked at Gabe. His face clouded over. "Who's this?" Micah glanced back at Gabe and grabbed her hand lightly.  
"This? This is Gabe, my girlfriend." She pulled her hand slowly out of his grip, and Micah blinked.  
"He always introduces me like that," Gabe murmured, smiling at Jedediah. "Supposedly, my name is Gabe My Girlfriend." Jed chuckled a little, but it sounded kind of forced.  
"I'm Jedediah." Gabe extended a hand towards him. He didn't take it. After a moment, she pulled it back and rubbed awkwardly at the back of her head. Micah was suddenly aware of how the children were all staring at her.  
"We gotta go get unpacked," he said quickly. "You mind if we talk later, Jed?" The older boy stuck his hands in his pockets and shrugged.  
"Nah. You wanna meet me in the dining room later tonight?"  
"N'kay." Micah glanced at Gabe, then at the stairs worriedly. "Ah--" His face flushed crimson as he beckoned for her to lean closer, which she did. "How are we getting up the stairs?" he whispered in her ear.  
"You can stay in the ground floor guest bedroom," Jedediah offered tentatively. Micah smiled, relieved, and Gabe turned.  
"Thanks," she said, and wheeled him out of the living room, away from the staring eyes.  
  
Gabe took him wordlessly to the bedroom and stopped the chair by the bed. Micah felt the silence and immediately sensed unease.  
"Gabe?" he murmured, and she walked out. He waited for a few minutes, afraid that she'd left him by himself, then let his breath out as she re-entered with two of their suitcases. "Gabe?" Micah asked again. "Is something wrong?" She threw one suitcase onto each bed.  
"Nothing at all," Gabe said, but it was clear she was lying. Micah frowned and wheeled his chair slowly over to her bed, where she was unpacking her bags with sharp movements of irritation.  
"Come on, don't lie to me." He tried to make her meet his gaze, and when she didn't, he swallowed hard. "Please, what's wrong?" Gabe picked up a t-shirt with Strawberry Shortcake printed on it and dropped it on the pile of clothes to put in the dresser.  
"Every time I ask you _anything _about this place, Micah -- who the people are, why they're here, what actually happened -- you dodge the question and say you'll tell me later." She slammed her suitcase shut. "Well, I want to know _now, _Micah!" He chewed his lower lip, fear rising in his throat.  
"Please, I know it sounds silly," he pleaded, and grabbed her hand. "I can't tell you yet, Gabe."  
_"When, _Micah?" Gabe cried, jerking away slightly. _"When?"_ Micah shook his head slowly. He couldn't tell her, he didn't even want to tell her, but he knew she'd find out eventually. He just wanted to keep that date as far in the future as possible.  
"Gabe," he said, voice a pleading sigh, then glanced down at his hands. "Would -- would you mind putting me in the bed? I think I need to sleep on this." Gabe glanced at him, eyes narrowed. She did as she was asked, however; turning quickly from her suitcase, she hooked her hands under his arms and swung him into the bed. Micah hit the mattress and bounced, grasping for the blankets to pull over his legs almost immediately. "Thank you," he said meekly. Gabe grunted in response and began packing shirts into the dresser. He watched her for one long moment, then finally rolled over in the bed and rested on his side.  
(she's mad at me again)  
"Sorry," he murmured to his pillow, and squeezed his eyes shut. Gabe went about the room in silence, packing shirts and putting toiletries in the bathroom. Fifteen long minutes went by before Micah finally felt the approach of sleep. He was just starting to drift off when Gabe's little sounds of unpacking silenced.  
"Micah?" It was nearly a whisper, and being too tired, he didn't respond. Her voice crept a little closer. "Micah?" she tried again. His eyelids felt heavy, his body like a weight, and he still didn't answer. There was a long pause before the bed sank just a tiny bit as Gabe sat on the edge. "I'm sorry," she murmured, placing her palm on his back and moving it in a soothing circle. "Here, you're facing something that's really painful and I'm being an ass and giving you a hard time." Another long pause. Gabe lifted her feet from the floor and scooted close, lying behind him atop the sheets. "And you know I'm not mad at you. I'm just sort of... frustrated. Confused, too. You saw how those kids looked at me downstairs. It's just a little... well, a little odd, I suppose." She hesitated again, almost as if waiting for answers between her sentences. Micah had finally pulled out of the hold of sleep, but didn't turn around. He wanted to let her finish. "At any rate," Gabe murmured, letting her head rest gently against the back of his, "that's no excuse for being so obstinate. I'm sorry. You tell me whenever you're ready." It seemed she was finished; Gabe fell silent and moved her palm in a slow, soothing circle over his back. Micah smiled a little, then rolled slowly over to face her.  
"Well, at least it's out of the way," he murmured. Gabe looked startled.  
"I thought you were asleep," she mumbled, then cocked a brow in question. "What's out of the way?"  
"Well," Micah said, stroking her cheek absently as he talked, "at some point, it seems one of us always gets mad at the other, then we make up. Healthy relationships are like that. But I'm glad it's out of the way for this trip -- because I'm looking forward to the making up part." Gabe grinned, slightly embarrassed.  
"That was sneaky. I really thought you were asleep." He shook his head and smirked out of the corner of his mouth.  
"You're even sneakier. If you thought I was asleep, how was I supposed to hear you apologize?"  
"Well..." She shrugged helplessly, moving closer as she did so. "I always thought that talking to people while they slept worked. Somehow, they always get the message, even though they don't hear you right away." Micah pressed his cheek to the top of her head and slid his arm around her.  
"Makes sense," he murmured, pulling her close. "But there's nothing you can tell me while I'm asleep that you can't tell me when I'm awake." Gabe buried her face in his shirt.  
"You'd be surprised," she muttered. He blinked.  
"What do you mean--" he began, then stopped as she shook her head.  
"Nothing. Forget it." Gabe yawned slightly. "I wish I'd used the car ride like you did. I spent the whole time reading that damned Stephen King book, and now I'm dead tired." Micah paused, running his hand soothingly over her hair, and remembered words from what seemed like ages ago.  
"You're tired, Gabe," he whispered, and planted a light kiss on her hair. "Sleep." It had been the same thing she told him months ago in the hospital, when he was still trapped in the bed and being held hostage by Sarah Pruitt. It seemed so long ago.  
"Good idea." Gabe ran her finger lightly over a crease in his t-shirt and gave a quiet sigh. "Just for a few minutes." Micah let his eyes drift closed.  
"Mm hm." She paused.  
"Love you," Gabe murmured. He smiled sleepily.  
"Love you too," he said, and fell slowly into sleep.  
  
"Well well well. Isn't this touching."  
  
The voice at the door made them both shoot awake. Jedediah was leaning against the frame, smiling with the corner of his mouth. It wasn't a friendly grin, either.  
"Jed--" Micah slowly pulled away from Gabe, not ashamed but surprised. "What are you doing? We locked the--"  
"Door?" He shrugged. "I've got a key. Angela lets me help out with cleaning rooms and stuff." Jedediah paused, then added, "You know, I really should let Ruth see this. I think it might do her some good. Make her stop ranting and raving about how your return is going to bring Him--"  
"Enough, Jed," Micah interrupted. Gabe frowned a little, leaning back on the pillow with her arms tucked behind her head. She didn't say anything.  
"Whatever you say," Jedediah chuckled, and pulled the bedroom door slowly closed. "Lunch'll be ready in five minutes." The lock clicked into place before Micah heaved a mental sigh of relief. He had been _that _close to letting it slip.  
"Who's that again?" Gabe asked quietly.  
"Jed," Micah responded promptly, falling back on his pillow. "An old friend of mine." She was silent for a moment.  
"Oh." Then she grinned and nestled close to him again, taking the folds of his t-shirt in her hands. "You know, we never _did _quite get to the fun part of making up." Micah laughed softly as a light blush crept over his cheeks.  
"You heard him. Lunch'll be ready in five minutes."  
"I'm sure we can find _something _to do in five minutes," Gabe retorted, and promptly pressed her mouth to his. Micah slid his arms around her, hugging her close, glad that they weren't fighting anymore.  
  
Neither one of them saw Ruth peering in the bedroom window.


	8. Outlander

--I still don't own anyone but Gabe and Edith. Thought I'd mention, too, that this one is obviously going to be longer than the other two. ...just thought you'd like to know. ^_^;--  
  
_Broadway is dark tonight  
Little bit weaker than it used to be  
Broadway is dark tonight  
See the young man sittin' in the old man's bar  
Waitin' for his turn to die  
--_from _Broadway _by The Goo Goo Dolls  
  
Gabe wheeled Micah into the dining room five short minutes later. The Garretts were already at the table; Lacey glared at them as they entered, but the rest of them just shifted uncomfortably. Edith was absent, supposedly out exploring Hemmingford. Micah wasn't sure exactly what there was to explore in Hemmingford, but he didn't ask questions.  
"I made casserole," Angela said pleasantly, and began spooning out some lumpy-looking brown stuff onto Danny's plate.  
"Looks great," Micah murmured, trying to be courteous. Truthfully, it looked like something he'd seen once in a pig trough. Gabe sat beside him and flashed a smile around the table.  
"Thanks for letting us stay at the Bed 'N Breakfast," she said politely. Garrett stabbed his casserole and shoved the bite into his mouth.  
"No trouble at all, Miss Sterling. It's the least we could do, dragging you down to No-Man's Land." Micah picked up his fork to push the food around on his plate.  
"Hasn't changed much," he said quietly, then glanced up as another chair scraped across the floor. It was Jedediah, grinning sheepishly as he joined the rest of the table.  
"Sorry," Jed said apologetically. "I got kinda sidetracked. Ruth was tramping around in the garden again."  
"Again?" Angela sat down and pushed the casserole dish towards Jedediah. "I thought you told her not to do that just yesterday!" The brown haired boy shrugged, eagerly shoveling a bite of casserole into his mouth.  
"I did. Apparently, it slipped her mind. Again." Garrett snorted over his plate.  
"Slippery as her mind is, she needs to remember that there _are _rules here." Micah smiled to himself. He wasn't even sure Ruth _had _a mind.  
"Maybe Micah better tell her," Jedediah suggested through a mouthful of food. His eyes flicked towards Micah, who had frowned at the mention of his name. "I'm sure she'd listen then." Jed's face was complacent, but Micah didn't like the coolness behind it.  
"What makes you so sure?" he asked quietly. Jed shrugged again.  
"She listened to you quite well before." Micah's frown deepened; this didn't sound at all like his old friend.  
"Drop it, Jed," he said softly. Jedediah's face twitched into a slight smirk.  
"Sure thing, Micah." He stabbed at his casserole, paused, then glanced up at Gabe. "So, _Gabe," _he began slowly, pushing the food around on his plate, "how did you meet Micah?"  
"I thought we told you about this already, Jedediah," murmured Garrett.  
"We did," Danny said quietly. Jedediah waved a hand at them, eyes remaining on Gabe.  
"I wanted to hear it from her." Micah felt his frown turn into a glare. Old friend or not, he didn't like the way Jed was staring at Gabe.  
"Well--" Gabe glanced up, saw the four or five gazes on her, and blushed a faint pink. "--from what I heard, some travelers found Micah injured in a cornfield near here, and they brought him to Central Hospital in St. Cecilia, where I live." She offered a small smile. "I work at Central, and I was his nurse. The rest is history, I s'ppose." Micah nodded a little, wanting the conversation to end soon. Jed still had his eyes locked on Gabe.  
"Yeah," Micah said, watching Jedediah carefully. "Can we talk about something else?" The older boy paused, then finally glanced at Micah. Gabe sighed, happy to be out of the spotlight.  
"What else would you like to talk about, Micah?" Jed asked quietly. There was definite venom behind his voice, and Micah didn't like it. He stiffened a little.  
"Stop being an ass," he murmured, and the Garretts shifted uncomfortably. Jedediah just offered a thin smile.  
"Yes, sir." He looked down to his plate, silent at last. Micah glanced around the table discreetly; everyone looked uncomfortable, aside from Lacey, who was smirking at the ceiling. Apparently, she enjoyed the little conversation that had just taken place. Micah wanted to smack the smirk off her face -- as well as perform a suitable punishment for Jedediah -- but it wouldn't go over well, especially not on his first night in Hemmingford. He lowered his eyes and remained silent. Danny coughed into his hand to ease the tension.  
"Good casserole, Mom," he murmured. They ate the rest of lunch in silence.  
  
Micah scowled as he wheeled into the empty living room.  
"I didn't like it," he said sullenly. Gabe ambled along behind him, taking a seat in an armchair.  
"He _was _a little... forward," she agreed, "but nothing to be upset about, Micah." He ran a hand through his hair and scowled.  
"Gabe, he stared at you all during dinner! And what about that--"  
"Micah." She leaned forward and placed her hand gently over his. "Forget him for a while, okay? I think we've had this discussion before. About being jealous?" Micah snorted quietly, but Gabe smiled and went on. "Look, we've been here for half a day and already you're getting yourself all worked up. _Chill." _He chewed his lower lip slightly, then grinned a little.  
"I'm chilled. Frozen, actually." Gabe laughed quietly.  
"Don't get _too _cold," she murmured, and wiggled her eyebrows. Micah snickered into his hand.  
"Fine, fine. You've got me in a better mood." He smiled and brought her hand to his lips, kissing it lightly. "Happy now?"  
"Oh, quite," Gabe said pleasantly, and jerked her hand away. "But I don't think you deserve any dessert." Micah pursed his lips into a playful pout.  
"I've been a good boy," he said, grabbing for her hand again. Gabe snickered and danced away.  
"Not until you talk to Jed later." Micah's teasing scowl turned into a real one.  
"With the way he's been acting?" he asked incredulously. "Be serious!"  
"I am." Gabe backed into the doorframe and gave him a sultry look. "And until you make up with this friend of yours and find out what's bothering him, you'll be seriously _alone --_ romantically speaking." Micah whined playfully, wheeling towards her.  
"But that's not _fair!" _ Gabe scampered away into the next room.  
"I never said it was," she called, and giggled softly. Micah rounded the corner.  
_"Gabe," _he complained, then stopped as his wheelchair bumped into Gabe's legs. She smiled down at him and dropped to a knee.  
"Talk to him," she said, tone firm. Micah scrunched his face up in frustration.  
_"But--"  
_"Micah," she said deliberately, and pressed her lips to his in a tender kiss.  
(that's nice)  
Micah brought up his hands to hold her face gently, but Gabe pulled away too fast.  
_"Talk to him,"_ she repeated. He stared at her, then sighed in defeat.  
"Oh, fine." Micah leaned back in his chair, defeated. "I'll talk to Jed."  
"Thank you, sweetheart." Gabe gave him another kiss, but it was quick and unsatisfactory. She must've noticed the disappointment in his face, because she grinned and ruffled his hair. "You'll get more after you talk to Jedediah." Micah wheeled towards the dining room, where he thought Jed was probably waiting.  
"Christ. I feel like a trained dog." Gabe giggled softly behind him, not moving from the living room.  
"Maybe if you bark a little, I'll throw in a biscuit or two." He pushed the door open with the palm of his hand.  
"Ha, ha. Funny." There was a pause as he struggled through the doorway.  
"Be nice," Gabe added gently. Micah hesitated, then laughed again. There was no mirth there.  
"Sure thing."  
  
Jedediah was waiting at the table.  
"Hey," he said simply. Micah heard the door close behind him. He wheeled closer to the table.  
"What the hell were you doing at lunch?" he demanded, and bumped into one of the chairs.  
(Woah. You heard Gabe. Chill, Captain Conniption.)  
Jedediah smiled calmly.  
"A little on edge, are we?" Micah crossed his arms tightly over his chest.  
"I have plenty of reasons to be," he said thinly, and scowled. "What is your problem, Jedediah? You're acting like such a jackass--"  
"Look who's talking," Jed said, tone cool. "You just come back when you decide that you want to--"  
"Garrett _dragged _me back here!" Micah clenched his teeth hard enough to hurt. "Don't make it seem like all this is my fault! I never wanted to come in the first place!" Jedediah tilted his head slightly, brown brows meeting in an angry scowl.  
"Now Hemmingford is too good for you?" he asked softly. Micah shook his head in disbelief.  
"What is your freaking _problem, _Jed?" He paused, then added, "I need to talk to Naomi and see what's really been going on with you. She'll tell me why you're acting like you've got a stick up your ass." Jedediah stiffened immediately; Micah noticed.  
"Naomi's dead," Jed said softly. Micah's frown immediately withered.  
"Oh--" He flushed a faint pink, realizing that it was him who'd been acting like an ass. "--oh, Jed, I'm so sorry--"  
"Part of the cornfield had caught on fire," Jed murmured, eyes lowered. His cold complacence had disappeared, leaving him quiet and vulnerable. Micah shifted uncomfortably in his chair, already regretting his insults. "She got trapped in the confusion, and they were all running all over the place--" He paused, voice cracking, but continued. "--and I -- I couldn't find her, so I ran--" Micah wheeled closer and put his hand on Jed's shoulder.  
"I'm sorry," he murmured. Jedediah squeezed his eyes closed.  
"When we found her," he whispered, "she was black, Micah, she was completely black--" The older boy leaned forward and put his face in his hands, shaking with silent tears. Micah screamed at himself mentally.  
(You _moron! _Bringing up the subject of his dead little sister, and insulting him, calling him an ass -- _you're _an ass, you insensitive prick. _You're _the ass here.)  
He rubbed Jed's shoulder soothingly with the flat of his palm.  
"I'm sorry, Jed," he murmured. After a moment, Jedediah straightened and hurriedly wiped his face.  
"I'm okay, it's okay. I'm fine. I'm fine." He let out a slow breath. "I'm fine." Jed smiled weakly. "I'm real sorry for being such a moron, Micah. I've been kind of... stressed lately."  
"It's my fault, too," Micah insisted, pulling back his hand. "Look, Jed, I'm not gonna be here for a long time, so we might as well be civil to each other, right?" Jedediah offered an apologetic grin.  
"All right," he agreed, then paused. His face clouded over slightly. "Just one more thing." Micah noticed the sudden change of mood and felt a frown twitch his brows.  
"Okay, what's that?" Jed crossed his arms slowly over his chest.  
"Gabe." Micah immediately stiffened, fingers tightening around the armrests of his chair. It was _not _ a subject he would discuss with much understanding.  
"What about her?" he asked coolly. Jed scratched at his head.  
"She's your girlfriend?" His friendly air had evaporated, as had Micah's patience.  
"Yes," he said through clenched teeth.  
"Micah," Jedediah said, leaning forward on his elbows, "she's an outlander." Micah felt a hot flare of anger rise in his chest.  
"You're going too far, Jed," he whispered. He had absolutely _no _right to judge _anyone, _as far as Micah was concerned. Dead sister or not.  
"No, I think _you _are." Jedediah stood up and began to walk in a lazy circle around the dinner table. "There are plenty of girls here you could've picked, all blessed by He Who Walks Behind The Rows! Sure, maybe not Ruth, but Esther and Jezebel--"  
"I don't _love _Ruth or Esther or Jezebel!" Micah wheeled towards the door. Enough was enough; maybe this boy had been his friend once, but exceptions could be made if this was the way he was going to act. "I'm in _love _with Gabe! I'm sorry if that doesn't fit in with your plan of Utopia, Jed, but frankly -- I don't give a damn!" Jedediah was quiet; Micah pushed his wheelchair through the doorway and was unsuccessful. He tried again, but the wheels were wedged awkwardly in the wooden frame. "Stupid door," he spat.  
"Love," Jed said thoughtfully, "or lust?" Micah gave the chair another hard push, taking his anger out on the wheels. It was still jammed firmly in the doorway.  
"Don't make it sound like a sin," he snarled, and tried again. "Jed, I'm sorry about Naomi. I really am. But all this --" Micah turned to glare at him over his shoulder. "--it's _over, _Jed, _over. _Don't get your hopes up; no matter what Ruth's been squawking about, I'm not bringing Him back. Gabe and I are happy." He finally squeezed through the doorway and began wheeling down the hall. Jedediah watched after him.  
"Are you really?" he murmured.  
"Jed," Micah said softly, halting the chair for only a moment, "we're doing the news story to get Garrett off my back. And then we're going home." Jedediah shrugged, then smirked.  
"Good luck." Micah glared at him for one long, painfully silent moment, then finally wheeled out the front door and to the porch. He thought he heard Jed add under his breath, "You're going to need it."


	9. A New Prophecy

--I own Gabe and Edith. Don't own COTC, Micah, or related characters. ...if you notice, Gabe and Micah's relationship is getting a bit more... physical. Heh, either it means they're really cute together, or the fanfic writer is kind of horny. Let's hope it means the former, eh? ^_^;--  
  
_I will get down on my knees  
And I will pray  
I will get down on my knees  
And I will pray  
I will get down on my knees  
And I will pray  
--_from _Hands _by Jewel  
  
Gabe was sitting outside on the porch swing, wrapped comfortably up in a blanket. The sun had started to set; supper had ended over half an hour ago, and she'd been sitting out there ever since she'd ordered him to talk to Jed. What an idea that had been.  
"Did it go well?" she asked softly, offering a small grin. Micah shook his head tiredly.  
"Not quite," he muttered, and abruptly ran his wheelchair into the swing post. That was it; all the stress and fear and anger from being in Hemmingford overflowed. "Oh, this _stupid chair!" _Micah shouted, then promptly covered his face with his hands. There was only a short pause before Gabe emerged from beneath the blanket, hands hooking securely beneath his arms.  
"Come here," she murmured, and pulled him swiftly over to the swing with a small grunt of effort. After a moment, when she had them situated, Gabe drew the blanket around both of them and curled an arm around him. "It's all right," Gabe said softly. "Calm down. We'll just sit out here a little while, okay?"  
"Okay," Micah mumbled, and slowly let his head lean on her shoulder. The cornfield spread before them, vast and endless, so painfully familiar that Micah had to close his eyes.  
"Did you two fight?" Gabe touched her foot to the ground and gave a push, setting the swing into a slow, lulling motion.  
"Not exactly," Micah said, and pulled the blanket tight around them. "Mm. It's getting chilly." Gabe nodded a little.  
"Yeah," she agreed, touching his hair lightly with her fingertips. There was a pause, then she continued. "Micah..." Gabe shifted a little and took his chin in her hand. She tipped his face up so she could look him in the eye. "It's not just Jed that's worrying you, is it?" Micah paused, staring at her. There was only comfort in her face.  
"No, it's not," he muttered, and pulled away slightly to sweep his gaze over the cornfield. "It's this whole _place, _Gabe, this whole damned _place..." _Micah hesitated, then added shakily, "And... my wheelchair." He stared at the fields; Gabe's voice came quietly from behind him.  
"What about it, sweetheart?"  
"It's so _hard," _Micah complained quietly, and closed his eyes. "I want to be able to walk again, Gabe." He had never said it out loud, he suddenly realized, and that made it even more painful.  
"Oh, Micah." Gabe pulled him close, nestling against him, and the warmth of her body against his made Micah feel a little better. Just a little. "I'm sorry." At last, he felt tears welling up behind his eyes.  
"Can't we go home?" he whispered, snaking a hand behind her head to gently touch the tips of Gabe's hair. The softness felt good on his fingertips. "Please, Gabe, can't we go home?"  
"Honey--" She pressed a light kiss against the top of his head. "--I'll talk to Edith, but I can't guarantee anything. Garrett made it quite clear that we had to stay 'til the story was done. Oh, but Micah, if it would make you happy I'd let you leave right now..." Micah was silent for a moment; he'd gotten his tears under control and was steadily cursing himself for being such a fool.  
"Okay." He slowly sat up and leaned close to her face, brushing his nose against hers. "If we can't go home," Micah said softly, "can we at least make out for a little while?" Gabe flushed a light pink and smiled shyly.  
"Right out here? What if someone comes outside?" Feeling slightly better, he nuzzled his nose lightly over her face.  
"You know what?" Micah murmured, kissing the line of her jaw briefly. "I really couldn't care less if Garrett or Angela came out here." Gabe shifted a little and pulled the blanket tight around them.  
"What about Danny and Lacey?" she asked, sounding less than reluctant.  
"If Danny and Lacey see us making out," he said mildly, and lowered his face to her neck, "maybe we can show them some pointers." Gabe chuckled quietly, then shifted again.  
"I don't know, Micah..." She drifted off, letting out a soft sigh. "Mmn." Micah gave her neck another tender kiss. It had been quite a while since they'd had any time to themselves, and right now, this was all he wanted. He just wanted to be with Gabe and block everything else out.  
"Love you," he mumbled, moving his nose lightly over her throat.  
"I love you too," she whispered, and promptly pulled the blanket over her head, jerking away. Micah blinked in surprise.  
"Where are you going?" He followed, hands groping for Gabe in the darkness. The sun had finally set and left the cornfields beneath a black-blue sky; the porch light flickered on after a brief moment, casting shadows against the blanket. Micah could see her at last, a dim silhouette lined on the quilt. He grinned and pretended to search blindly anyway. "Where'd you go?" he asked dully, feeling at her sleeves.  
"Oh, because I'm _so _hard to find," Gabe said sarcastically. Micah grinned and promptly pinched her side. She yelped loudly, squirming away. "Hey!"  
_"There _you are," he declared, but continued to search for her.  
"Quit that." She wiggled, then squeaked loudly. "Watch what you're grabbing, Mr. Balding!" Micah grinned to himself.  
"Oops," he said with a mockery of innocence, "so sorry." At last, he had her where he wanted; Micah slipped his hands around her arms and pushed her back to the seat of the swing. She squirmed, apparently surprised by his strength.  
"Let me up!" Gabe wriggled again, the blanket casting shadows over her face. Micah felt an involuntary smile surface.  
"Where's my dessert?" he asked softly. "I've been a good boy." She stopped squirming, a slow grin curling her lips.  
"You, sir," she said firmly, "are an over-sexed woman chaser with five hands."  
"Woman chaser?" Micah cried in genuine surprise. "How am I supposed to chase anyone when I've got my skinny ass stuck in a wheelchair all day?" Gabe snickered quietly, hearing the humor in his words and deciding it was all right to laugh.  
"Oh, shut up and kiss me," she ordered quietly. He complied, quite readily.  
(my _god _she's good)  
Micah pressed his mouth harder to hers, loving how she felt and tasted, nearly forgetting how much he hated Hemmingford.  
"Mmn... you _are _a good boy," Gabe murmured against his lips. He brought his hands to her hair and twisted his fingers in it. Oh, yes -- _this _was what he had been wanting for quite a while. She just felt so good, and he knew she loved him... Micah felt her light, stroking touch on his sides as she slid her hands beneath his shirt; he snickered unwillingly and gave a slight jerk.  
"Don't," he mumbled, pulling away a little. The blanket was still draped over the both of them; it shielded the two from the late summer chill. Micah thought it was getting slightly annoying, but he found he didn't have the patience to pull it off at the moment.  
"You're so cute." Gabe smiled shyly up from beneath him. "I guess, what with all that's been going on, you really _do _deserve this, don't you?" Micah felt a soft laugh bubble to his lips.  
"Yeah," he murmured, and kissed her again.  
  
He was so busy it took him thirty seconds to acknowledge the fact that the blanket had been torn off, exposing them both to the crisp night air.  
  
Gabe gasped under his mouth, and Micah shot back, ready to curse fluently at whoever had dared to interrupt his valuable quality time. He was quite certain that everyone here was scared enough of him as it was, and if he needed to, he was ready to use that power. Even abuse it. To put it simply, Micah was understandably pissed off.  
"What the _hell--" _he spat, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the fairly bright light of the porch. Ruth was standing there, hands clenched, face livid. Gabe was silent beneath him as she quickly withdrew her hands from his shirt.  
"All this time," Ruth hissed, and her eyes narrowed. "All this time, I've been waiting for you to come back, and what do I find you doing?" She laced her arms tightly over her chest. "On the porch, acting like some horny teenager when the entire prophecy _depends _on you--"  
"Prophecy?" Gabe's voice was quiet, but curious. Micah sat up fully, pulling the blanket over his knees angrily.  
"Enough, Ruth," he snapped, but she went on.  
"Yes, prophecy!" Ruth's blonde brows twisted into an ugly scowl. "It is written--"  
"Shut your mouth, Ruth!" Micah snarled. He truthfully had no idea what she was talking about, but he knew it wasn't good.  
_"No!" _She hurriedly pulled a piece of wrinkled paper out of her pocket and smoothed it on her jeans. "It is written," Ruth said sharply, " 'And the Chosen shall return to the holy ground, offer himself up to the Lord, and return with new hope and life for all.' "  
"Chosen?" Gabe echoed confusedly. He glared at the mop of a girl above him, feeling anger twist his innards harshly.  
"You'd better go," he said, tone soft and deadly. _"Now." _Ruth crinkled the piece of paper in her fist.  
"I'd like to know just how you expect to fulfill the prophecy when you've got this -- this --" She grasped for words, then finally found an insult to her liking as she snarled at Gabe. "-- this _slut _of an outlander sticking her tongue down your throat!" That was the last straw -- his patience snapped. Micah had had enough; the bitch had been asking for it ever since she met him, and now she was going to get it.  
_"Ruth--" _He straightened as best he could on the swing and pointed one pale, slender finger at her. "The Lord is most displeased with you. He is _most displeased _as to how you are treating His Chosen. On your knees." Micah's eyes didn't grow unnaturally dark, nor did his voice grow deep, but he did manage a throaty growl that sounded threatening to his own ears. Apparently, it was threatening to Ruth's ears too; her face immediately lost all wrath from it.  
"I'm -- I'm sorry, Micah--"  
_"On your knees!"_ he commanded, and was startled to hear the feral rumble in his voice. Ruth's mouth flapped as she got slowly down to her knees.  
"Forgive me, Lord," she whispered, clasping her hands in supplication. Micah waved a hand at her and unearthed a bored look.  
"He wishes you to leave. Perhaps if you pray for forgiveness, His punishment will be less severe." Ruth lingered on her knees; he scowled darkly. "Go!" Micah barked, and she went.  
  
He turned back to Gabe, wanting to laugh and cry at the same time.  
"I suppose I should tell you what's going on," Micah said softly. Gabe squinted, then shook her head.  
"Not yet. Before we go to sleep. I'll give you time to think it over." He watched her, a confused frown twitching his brows.  
"Aren't you--"  
"Mad? At that mop-head?" Gabe made a face. "Well, she called me a slut, but I think I can handle it. She doesn't have much room to talk." Unwillingly, he grinned.  
"You're taking it well."  
"Yeah, well..." She smiled seductively. "...you have no idea how sexy you sounded when you yelled at Ruth." Micah raised his eyesbrows.  
"Oh?" he asked. Gabe took the folds of his t-shirt carefully in her hands.  
"Oh yes," she murmured. "I got chills, I tell you... _very _sexy." Micah grinned and pulled her close.  
"Shall I do it again?" he growled, and she laughed.  
"If you wish." And with that, they regained control of their quality time. The cornfield watched in silence.  
  
Micah shifted in his bed quietly.  
"Gabe," he whispered. A shadow moved in the darkness.  
"Hm?" The bed springs squeaked as she sat on the edge. He groped blindly and finally found her hand.  
"I'm ready to tell you." Gabe paused, then slowly rolled over and nestled close to him.  
"Go on," she murmured. Micah hesitated. He wanted to tell her, but _how? _Oh God, _how?_  
"All right." He closed his mouth, waiting for the right words. While he waited, Gabe pressed her cheek gently against his shoulder.  
(oh what are you worried about?)  
Micah touched his fingers lightly to her hair.  
(she loves you and she's going to no matter what happened)  
After a good five minutes, he sighed softly and told himself if he didn't say it now, he never would.  
"Gabe," Micah whispered. "When I was 8 years old, my parents were killed." There was silence; he frowned a little. "Gabe?" He touched her shoulder lightly, feeling her deep, relaxed breaths. She was asleep. _"No," _Micah murmured. "Gabe, I'm never gonna tell you unless I do it _now..." _Then he paused. Slowly, carefully, he smiled.  
  
And, while Gabe slept, Micah told her everything.


	10. Scars

--Yet again, I must apologize for the gap between chapters. This one is extra long to make up for it. I don't own anyone except Gabe and Edith. Everyone else is property of that good ol' Stephen King!--  
  
_It's the end of the world as we know it  
It's the end of the world as we know it  
It's the end of the world as we know it  
And I feel fine  
--_from _End of the World _by REM_  
_  
The next morning, Micah was amazed at how much better he felt. Confession _was _good for the soul -- whether she'd know what he said or not, at least he'd told her. Edith bustled in about nine and dressed him hurriedly; she was off to take more pictures. When Micah asked her what on earth she was taking pictures of, Edith just beamed and said she was simply in love with the small country town atmosphere. He was glad at least _someone _was happy with the place. Ten minutes later, Micah brushed his teeth and hair and wheeled out into the living room. The Children were sitting there quietly, gathered around Gabe's feet and staring at her with wide, unblinking eyes. She had her nose buried in Needful Things and didn't seem to notice them. At first, he felt angry, but after a moment Micah decided to follow her lead and keep his good mood intact. He wasn't going to let a bunch of creepy, blank-eyed kids get the better of him.  
(They did once.)  
"Morning, Gabe," he said cheerfully, wheeling towards her with surprising quickness. Gabe looked up and smiled warmly.  
"Hey! Up early, I see." He pulled up next to her, the Children clearing a path as they continued to watch with pale, silent eyes. Micah shot them a half-concealed sneer and set the brake on his chair.  
"Against my will," he said. "Edith woke me." He paused, then leaned his head a little closer to her. "Are these kids bothering you?" Gabe shook her head slightly, lowering the book a bit.  
"Nah." She paused, though, and tipped her face closer as well, her voice dropping a notch. "Well, they're kinda creepin' me out. I'm starting to feel like I'm in 'Village of the Damned'." Micah covered a small snicker with his hand.  
"You're close," he said, smiling.  
"Mm." Gabe looked back at her book. "Sleep well?" He glanced over his shoulder -- the Children stared shamelessly, and he decided then he was going to teach them a little lesson about bothering his girlfriend. Micah felt a small smile curl his lips; he beckoned for Gabe to come closer, as if he wanted to share a secret with her. When she raised her eyebrows and leaned forward, it wasn't a secret he shared. Micah pressed his lips hard to hers, passionately, making more of a show than was needed. He knew that the Children had never witnessed such 'blasphemy' -- not in the _sheltered _life they lead -- and that this would be sure to shock them into compliance. Gabe, apparently, wasn't aware of the show. She dropped Needful Things into her lap and freed her hands, sliding them into his hair. Micah was the surprised one now. Gabe was so easily enticed lately, and now the line of show was blending with the line of pleasure. Wary of the trick turning into a full makeout session right there in the living room, Micah shoved aside his testosterone and pulled away slowly.  
"Does that answer your question?" he whispered huskily, back on track. Micah peeked discreetly out of the corner of his eye and nearly laughed; the Children looked like they'd just witnessed a murder. Gabe, however, looked like she'd just seen Brad Pitt waltzing naked across the living room.  
"Good morning to you, too," she murmured, starting to lean forward again. It was then she abruptly remembered the Children. Her face flushed a sudden scarlet as she leaned back in her chair and picked up Needful Things again. "Little eyes, Mr. Balding," Gabe said quietly, but a smirk was tugging playfully at the corners of her mouth.  
"Little eyes, my ass," Micah snorted, and sat back as he crossed his arms over his chest. "They've seen worse." He glanced at a little boy and raised a black eyebrow. "Haven't you, Caleb?" At the recognition, the child's cheeks turned a faint pink; he lowered his head.  
"We are not to speak to the Chosen," he mumbled, staring at the ground. "Ruth said so." Micah felt a flare of anger.  
"Ruth can stick her head in the toilet," he snapped. A few of the Children gasped in surprise; the majority of them giggled into their hands. Micah's lips fell into a relieved smile. So they _were _still human.  
"It would do wonders for her hair," Gabe commented casually, turning a page. A few more sniggers rose from the group of children. Micah glanced at her, one brow raised comically.  
"Hair?" he echoed. "I thought that mess on her head was some sort of animal." The few that had tried to resist laughter finally submitted to it, though they hid it modestly beneath their hands. Gabe smiled down at her book.  
"Might be. Now, keep this between us--" She looked up, shot around a shifty glance, and leaned forward towards the Children to whisper conspiratorially. "--but I think it's _growing."_ That did it; the Children exploded into giggles, Micah and Gabe following soon after. It made him happy to finally hear emotions from the kids -- they'd had to hide it so long, it was time for things to be normal. He was also relieved to know that Gabe wasn't completely scared of the Children, either.  
_  
"Enough!"  
  
_The group whirled, stricken into silence at the loud yell from the doorway. It was Jedediah.  
"Jed," Micah said thinly. "They're just having fun."  
"Outside." Jedediah crossed his arms over his overalls; Micah noted that they were dirtier than usual. "All of you." It was directed to the Children, who shifted and glanced at each other. The Chosen was supposed to give orders, Micah guessed.  
"Jed," he said again. "Leave 'em alone."  
_"All of you!"_ Jedediah snarled, and jabbed a finger at the doorway. Slowly, the Children stood and hurried out, more than one casting a forlorn glance over their shoulder. Jed waited until the last one was out the door, then shot a contemptuous look at Gabe and Micah. "You might have changed," he said, tone soft and venomous, "but the rest of us haven't."  
"No, Jed." Micah put his hand lightly over Gabe's, who laced their fingers tightly. "You're the only one who hasn't changed. You and Ruth." Jedediah took hold of the doorknob in one fist.  
"Don't test me, Micah," he growled.  
"I'm not testing you." Micah glanced briefly at Gabe. She was staring steadily at Jed, and he thought he saw a short flicker of recognition pass over her eyes.  
(Does she remember what I told her?)  
It went quickly.  
"Isaac tried to escape the prophecy intended for him," Jedediah said quietly. "And you know how _he _ended up." Micah felt a sharp twist of anger in his chest; he had _liked _Isaac, and it had been a while since anyone mentioned his untimely death.  
"Go, Jed," he murmured. "Join the Children. They're waiting for your orders. Apparently, you're the leader now." Jedediah paused, looking faintly wounded, then finally sneered.  
"At least _I _know my place," he snarled, and stalked out the door, slamming it behind him.  
  
"Micah," Garrett said evenly, pressing a button on his small tape recorder, "I'm going to ask you a few questions. Is that all right?"  
"Yeah," Micah mumbled, and shifted uncomfortably. This felt eerily familiar. Garrett leaned forward on the table, pencil poised to jot down any necessary notes. They were sitting in the dining room; everyone had been warned not to bother the successful journalist -- oh, yeah, and that demonic kid too. At least, that's how Micah felt.  
"Can you tell me what happened approximately eight months ago?"  
(You know very well what happened eight months ago.)  
Micah laced his hands neatly in what was left of his lap.  
"As far as I can remember," he murmured, "I was looking in the cornfield for my friends Mordechai--"  
(who you killed)  
"--and Jedediah--"  
(who's now a complete psycho)  
"--and I heard this noise." Micah shifted in his wheelchair. Garrett didn't even look up from his work, pencil flying over the paper.  
"Mm hm. Go on." Micah was tempted to ask why he needed a notebook when he was recording everything they said, but repressed the urge and continued.  
"I turned around, and there was this... this _thing _standing there."  
"More specific, please," Garrett said shortly. Micah fought a sneer.  
"Sure thing," he muttered, and went on. "It was this big... well, I couldn't see it very well. I just know it was really tall, maybe--" He gestured helplessly. "--six, seven feet?"  
"Mm hm." Garrett scribbled again on his paper. "Continue." Micah felt like a fool; no one would believe this cockamamie story, whether it was in Newsweek or the National Enquirer.  
"It was really shadowy. I couldn't see its face." He looked back down to his hands. "It... it scared me."  
"Are you sure you couldn't see its face? You don't remember?" Garrett glanced up expectantly. "Are you _sure?"_ Micah felt his face burn, part embarrassment and part anger.  
"It was dark," he said through clenched teeth.  
"All right." Garrett waved a hand at him impatiently. "Go ahead." Micah glanced towards the window. He didn't want to do this anymore.  
"Can we stop?" he asked softly. Garrett's eyebrows shot up.  
"We've only been interviewing for about five minutes, Micah," he said steadily. Micah reached for the recorder and pressed stop.  
"Please, I don't feel comfortable with this." Garrett made an angry sound as the tape clicked off.  
"Micah, the whole reason you came down here was--"  
"The whole reason I came down here," Micah corrected, teeth clenched, "was because my girlfriend wanted me to." He swiveled sharply and headed for the front door.  
"We'll continue this later," Garrett said quietly after a few frustrated snorts. Micah heard vague understanding in his voice and softened.  
"I'll try," he murmured, and wheeled out to bump down the front steps.  
  
Micah rolled slowly down the dirt road towards the main street of Hemmingford. He didn't know quite what he was looking for; he just knew that he couldn't stay at the Bed 'N Breakfast anymore. It had been quite a disaster trying to get down that long expanse of hill trailing from the Inne, but somehow Micah managed -- and with only a few bumps and bruises to speak of. He was quite proud of himself. When Micah wheeled down to Hemmingford's Main Street, he nearly froze in terror.  
("What's -- what's wrong with my chair?!")  
He told himself it was all right, it hadn't been his fault, and the last time he'd been here it was a dream. Only a dream.  
_("You little monsters!")  
_Micah wheeled slowly down the sidewalk, teeth clenched to steel his nerves against the fear. There was absolutely no reason to be scared. Besides, he didn't _have _ an automatic wheelchair. He spotted Gabe talking with Danny by the hardware store.  
"Gabe," Micah called, pushing the wheels faster. Gabe glanced over her shoulder, grinned, and turned back to Danny.  
"Oh, _heavens, _Danny, I've told you before I can't take part in your and Lacey's twisted love triangle!" Micah smirked as he stopped the wheelchair beside her.  
"You're _so _funny," he said drily. Gabe laughed, dropping to a knee in front of him.  
"Feeling all right, babe?"  
"Not too bad," Micah murmured, and leaned forward to give her a brief kiss. When he drew back, Danny had his arms crossed; he was smiling, and it wasn't malicious. It seemed genuine.  
"I was gonna show Gabe around Hemmingford a little." Danny chewed his lip slightly. "If it's all right with you, Micah--"  
"Oh, it's fine." Micah smiled up at the two of them. It was fairly obvious that Danny wasn't out to get him, and that Gabe wasn't going to hurt him purposely. He was feeling oddly trusting today.  
"You wanna come?" Gabe asked warmly, holding one of his hands in hers. Micah paused, then shook his head.  
"Nah. I've... I've seen Hemmingford before." He exchanged a brief glance with Danny, then looked back to Gabe. "I think I'm just gonna wander around a little. Get my bearings again." Gabe smiled slightly.  
"All right. Whatever you say." She began to stand, but changed her mind and bent towards him again. "If you need me, just come looking, okay? I'll probably be back at the Bed N' Breakfast by dinnertime, at the latest." Again she paused; this time, Gabe kissed his lips gently and pulled back before he could respond. "Love you," she whispered warmly. Micah smiled, almost tearfully.  
"Love you too." He grinned at Danny, who returned the smile easily. "See you later, Danny."  
"Later, Micah," said Danny, and grabbed Gabe's arm playfully. "Shall we go, then?"  
"We shall," she agreed. Gabe smiled broadly at Micah. "I'll see you later tonight, honey."  
"Okay." Micah watched them leave, then turned his wheelchair around. Maybe Hemmingford wasn't as bad as he'd remembered.  
  
He passed the old hardware store and was contemplating whether he should visit the swimming hole when Micah heard angry voices. He stopped.  
"...but she's going to..."  
"Only if we let her. There's no proof..." Micah tilted his head and strained to hear. The voices were coming from behind the hardware store, at the edge of the cornfield. Cautiously, he wheeled along the side of the brick building and listened hard; he was missing words and chunks of the conversation.  
"..._plenty _of proof, you idiot. Everything else has... there's too much to _lose, _and if she..."  
"She won't."  
"How the hell do you know? You're only _temporary _leader, remember?" Staying quiet, Micah chanced a glance around the corner. It was who he thought it was -- Ruth and Jedediah, both looking considerably peeved. Jed had his hands clenched.  
(What the hell are _they _arguing about...?)  
Micah was afraid that he had an inkling.  
"Come on, Ruth," Jedediah was saying now, looking as if he were forcing himself to be calm. "We don't need to fight about this." She crossed her arms testily over her chest.  
"I think we do," she snapped. Jed moved closer.  
"Just calm down." He placed his hands on her shoulders and rubbed them slightly. "I'm telling you, Gabe's not smart enough to figure out what's going on here." Micah heard the words and stiffened in anger.  
(She's smarter than ten of you, you Hee-Haw extra.)  
"Maybe not," Ruth said moodily, "but she's got Micah under her thumb. You should've _seen _the way he had his hands on her! It was purely..." She trailed off; Jed just barely brushed her hair with his nose.  
"Sinful?" he offered. Micah felt sickened. It was obvious that Jedediah had a thing for Ruth. He couldn't believe he'd never noticed it.  
"Don't start with me, Jed," Ruth spat, twisting away. "You _know _how I feel--"  
"You can't tell me you still have feelings for that little traitor!" Jedediah had clenched his hands again. Micah bristled at the comment he'd made.  
(Traitor, my skinny ass.)  
He yearned to wheel out of his hiding place and give Jed what was coming to him, but Micah just clenched the wheels of his chair and listened.  
"At least Micah got something _done!" _Ruth was glaring, her face a little flushed.  
_"Micah _got my sister _killed!"_ Jed countered angrily.  
"That wasn't his fault!"  
(First intelligent thing she's said yet.)  
"What's wrong with me?!" Jedediah yelled suddenly, surprising both Ruth and Micah. The conversation had taken a turn on a different subject. "What's wrong with _me, _Ruth?! What makes Micah so much better than _me?"_ Ruth looked taken aback, but at last she recovered.  
"There's something connecting us, Jedediah. I don't know what it is, but--"  
_"What the hell do you call this?!" _Jed shoved his palm towards her, exposing the long scar on it. Micah felt a flash of memory  
("The sower of seeds _must _be a child--")  
that lingered for only a moment  
("--so that what is planted is pure and without corruption.")  
before it faded again.  
"It was symbolic!" Ruth screeched, hiding her own hand. "He knew what he was doing! It was a bond between towns, not between the two of us--"  
_"Why not?" _Jed shouted, and finally fell silent. The two of them stared at each other before he let out a short breath of air and regained his cool tone. "Look. You know what we have to do. Let's just do it and get it over with, all right?"  
"Fine," she said stiffly, and whirled away. Micah barely had time to back away from the corner and get back on the street before Jed emerged from behind the hardware store. He thought he'd been caught, but Jedediah didn't even notice him. He hurried away from the street -- and right into the cornfield. Micah watched him go and made a firm decision. Even though he wasn't sure what, something was wrong in Hemmingford. _Again._


	11. In the Cornfield

--Mwaha! Inspiration at last! C'mon, people, review the heck out of me. I need some feedback. Songs aren't mine. COTC, Micah, all them people aren't mine. I own Gabe and Edith. 'Nuff said.--  
  
_I need you now  
Do you think you can cope?  
You've figured me out  
That I'm lost and I'm hopeless  
I'm bleeding and broken  
Though I've never spoken  
I've come undone  
In this mad season  
--_from _Mad Season _by Matchbox 20  
  
Micah wheeled quickly up the hill towards the Come Sleep With Me Bed N' Breakfast. He had a dull sense of urgency stirring around deep in his chest, and he was entirely sure why -- after all, Ruth _had _stormed off, and Jedediah _was _sulking around in the cornfield. So why did he feel so worried?  
"Micah?" The voice was coming from behind him; Micah glanced over his shoulder and brought the chair to a halt.  
"Danny?" he said confusedly. The uneasiness in his stomach lurched -- Danny was alone.  
"Where are you going?" The blonde boy trotted over, frowning slightly.  
"I'm going up to the Inne -- er, where's Gabe?" Micah asked. He was trying not to let the growing panic in his voice show. Danny raised his eyebrows.  
"You don't know?" he asked, clearly startled.  
"No, I don't know!" Micah could feel his breathing becoming more ragged.  
(don't worry)  
"Did you see where she went?" he mumbled quickly.  
(but _where is she)  
_Danny shook his head.  
"No -- _wait." _He glanced behind him briefly, seeming more than a little anxious. "She could be --" Micah followed his gaze  
(please no)  
and felt his heart plummet into his stomach.  
"Why would she be in the cornfields?" he asked, hearing the panic in his voice and despising it.  
"Gut feeling," Danny murmured, and motioned with a hand. "C'mon. Let's go check, just in case -- can you wheel that thing through the rows?"  
(can't go can't go NOT IN THERE)  
Micah bit his lower lip hard, almost hard enough to draw blood.  
(not in there _please _not in there)  
"Can you?" Danny insisted.  
(but don't forget Gabe)  
"I'll try," Micah responded promptly, and pivoted his wheelchair around. "Let's go."  
  
The two boys lingered at the edge of the cornfields for a few long moments before finally heading in.  
"Let's check that clearing over there," Danny said. Micah was unable to speak; worry was churning his innards into ghoulash, and if he opened his mouth he was afraid he'd get sick right there. There was no real reason he should be worried  
(gabe's missing gabe might be in the cornfield)  
but somehow he _was_  
(gabe's out here IN THE CORN)  
and he couldn't shake the horrible feeling. Micah wheeled with some difficulty over the loose soil. It was hard to fit the chair through the rows, and it was even harder to avoid crunching the tall stalks. But he'd rather crash his chair than damage any of the corn -- Micah was smart enough to remember that.  
"Just past this row," Danny said. He had disappeared into the leafy stalks and was no longer visible, but Micah could still follow his voice. Struggling over a bump, he finally entered the clearing.  
(oh _my _GOD)  
Had his mouth been open then, Micah most certainly would've gotten sick, but he was lucky and got off with a dry heave into the palm of his hand.  
  
"Gabe?" he whispered.  
  
She was mounted on a cross made of lumber and corn stalks; her head, crowned with a ring of messily tied husks, hung limply on her neck. Gabe's arms and legs were bound to the cross with thick coils of rough rope. He had a very vague memory  
(scarecrow with her eyes)  
of something from his hospital days  
(female Jesus)  
that was unattainable, so he let go -- there was, after all, more important things to be dealt with. Like how pale Gabe was, and the thin trickle of blood that was sliding down her left temple. For one long, unbearably horrible moment, Micah thought she was dead. Then she raised her head slightly and spotted him.  
"Micah?" she whispered. Her voice was nearly inaudible; after only a moment, she shook her husk-crowned head hard and mouthed, _"Go."_  
"My God," Danny said in a hushed voice, and Micah finally remembered that the blonde boy was standing just a few feet away.  
"Gabe!" The strangled word was out of his mouth before he could stop it. She shook her head even harder, her blonde hair flying around her face. The husk crown fell off her head and landed silently in the grass and littered stalks at her feet. Micah wheeled frantically towards her, no thoughts in his mind except the fact that he had to get her _down. NOW._  
"How did this happen?" Danny asked in disbelief. He hadn't moved from the spot he'd been standing in since they found her.  
"Danny, _help _me!" Micah cried when he found he couldn't reach Gabe's bonds. For what seemed the hundredth time that day, he silently cursed his chair.  
"I --" Danny began, and made a sputtering sound. "Sorry, I'll help." He dug in his pocket, flipping out a pocketknife, and hurried to the cross Gabe was mounted on.  
"Micah, get out of here!" she said, her voice a frightened hiss. Micah glanced up at her in surprise.  
"No," he said, genuinely startled. After a moment, he placed a gentle hand on her bare ankle -- for some reason, Gabe had lost her shoes -- and stroked it very lightly with his thumb. "We'll get you down," he murmured soothingly. "We'll get you down, who did this?"  
"Well, well, well," said a low voice from behind. "Look who's come back. Right back into the cornfield, where all his roots lie." Micah whirled as best as his wheelchair would allow, glaring at the one person he had been expecting.  
"Jedediah," he growled, and was surprised to hear the rumbling anger in his tone. "You have gone too far."  
"No," Jed said coolly as he waltzed towards the three of them. "I think I've gone _just the right length _to get you back here." He half-smiled, half-sneered. "I knew you wouldn't let anything happen to this little outlander whore of yours."  
"Call her another name and I'll kill you." Micah removed his protective hand from Gabe's ankle to turn his chair fully towards Jedediah; Danny had freed her feet and was moving on to her wrists.  
"My my my," Jedediah exclaimed in mock surprise, ignoring Micah. "It seems the Queen has lost her crown!" He stooped low and picked up the corn-husk crown.  
"Jed, one more word..." It was killing Micah inside, not being able to do anything about the horrible insults. Jedediah had done so much to Gabe already, and Micah could to _absolutely nothing. _He was just as helpless as he'd been during Hemmingford's massacre.  
"What are you going to do?" The brown-haired boy smirked. "Run me over?" Micah's anger bubbled over; he shot out a hand and just barely managed to grab the collar of Jed's shirt. He yanked the curly-haired boy merely an inch from his face.  
"Best shut your mouth, Jed," Micah snarled through clenched teeth. There was a very long pause as they stared at each other.  
"Jesus Christ, King of the Jews," Jedediah said mockingly, a small sneer playing on his lips. "Gabrielle Sterling, Queen of the Whores." That did it; Micah drew a hand back and gave Jed the hardest punch he'd ever landed. There was a sickening crunch as his fist met bone. Jedediah stumbled back, shielding his now bleeding nose, and staggered until he landed on his rear end. Micah struggled for breath -- the anger was so great it hurt his chest -- and rubbed at his fist. He'd hit him a lot harder than he'd meant to.  
"Micah!" Gabe shrieked, her voice so high with terror that Micah twisted to see her. She was half-hanging from the cross; Danny had managed to get her legs and right arm free, but had apparently abandoned his job. Gabe gripped the cross with her free arm, unable to wiggle her left wrist from the bonds. "Micah, just _go! _He's not who you have to worry about!"  
"Gabe," he said breathlessly, beginning to wheel towards her. "I have to get you down --"  
_"NO! You don't understand!" _Her tone was so terrified that Micah winced. He'd heard that tone before.  
"What don't I understand?" he asked confusedly.  
_"He's coming!" _she screamed, and began to thrash wildly in her bonds. "Jed's not pretending, Micah! He's --"  
"Slut doesn't know when to keep her mouth shut," Ruth said, amused. Micah glanced to her. The only thing keeping him from fainting away with fear  
(he who walks behind the rows)  
was the black, bubbling anger  
(!HE WHO WALKS BEHIND THE ROWS!)  
twisting in his heart.  
"Why won't you leave us alone?" Micah asked, his voice strangely even. "Why won't you leave me alone?" Ruth walked slowly towards him. Her hands were laced neatly behind her back.  
"I don't know what you're talking about." She smiled as she bent and picked up Gabe's crown. "I haven't seen you in _months, _Micah, simply _months -- _how can you tell me to leave you alone?"  
"I've beaten you before," he said, and was alarmed to hear that his voice shook now. "I can do it again."  
"Oh, _Micah." _Ruth shook her head disapprovingly. "It hurts when you say things like that. Besides --" She glanced at Jedediah, who was quietly nursing his bloody nose. "-- you've already done more than what was expected."  
"I didn't think he'd hit me," Jed said sullenly.  
_"Run, Micah, RUN --" _Gabe had begun to scream again, but Ruth shoved the corn-husk crown harshly in her open mouth.  
"We're all tired of listening to you screech," Ruth said irritably. Micah made a wild grab at her, but she calmly stepped out of his reach.  
"You bitch," he spat. "You filthy _bitch --"_  
"Flattery will get you nowhere." She smiled smugly and gave his wheelchair a kick, jerking it sideways. "The time for flirting will come later." Ruth turned on her heel. "And _you --_" The accused, Jedediah, raised his eyebrows.  
"What? I got him in the cornfield!"  
"I know, I know." Ruth paused, then smiled silkily and slithered towards him. "But you made one tiny, itsy-_bitsy _mistake." She said this as she slipped an arm around Jedediah's neck; the brown-haired boy swallowed.  
"What?" Micah twisted in his wheelchair, but he couldn't see Gabe for the odd angle he was tilted at. He could only hear her coughing, probably choking on a corn husk. Ruth, meanwhile, was leaning dangerously close to Jedediah -- so close they were nearly nose-to-nose. She still had that small smirk on her face.  
"You... _let the boy ESCAPE!" _she suddenly screamed, and shoved the flat of her palm into his already injured nose. Jed howled and fell backwards, hands flying to the fresh blood pouring down his face.  
"Mi -- Micah --" Gabe was coughing steadily now; he hoped she wasn't really choking, maybe just had a slight case of hayfever. "Get -- get out of -- just _go --"_ Micah struggled to get his chair to turn, but it was no use. He was stuck in a rut, one probably made by a tractor. Or a Harvester.  
"Not without you!" Micah gave his wheels a mighty shove. Useless. "Ruth -- He Who Walks Behind The Rows -- _whatever the fuck you are --" _He tried again. "-- you know you're not going to win, so just let us go!"  
"Nice try, my valiant cripple," Ruth said, voice full of malicious laughter. When Micah glanced up, she was right in front of him. "I'm going to have some fun with you _and _your little whore." Now that she was close enough, Micah grabbed a handful of her blonde curls and pulled hard. She didn't so much as wince.  
"Call her a whore again and I'll rip this rabid sheep right off your head," he hissed.  
_"Micah --" _Gabe gasped raggedly.  
  
_"SILENCE!"  
  
_Both Ruth and Micah fell silent; Jedediah, who was sitting meekly on the ground struggling against tears of pain, snapped his head up. Aside from Gabe's ragged fit of coughing, there was total silence.  
  
Because there, at the edge of the clearing, stood Lacey.  
  
Her eyes were pitch black. 


	12. Where the Roots Lie

--Almost done, really! I don't own anyone but Gabe. ... oh, and if you're all lucky, I'll have this finished in the next few days! Consider it my Christmas present from me to you. ^_^ Happy holidays, all! Oh, irrelevent side-note: the opening song for this chapter is my favorite song. Ever.--  
  
_Hello, hello  
Won't you come right in?  
I'd give anything  
Just to see you again  
Hello, hello  
Won't you come right in?  
Welcome to my world  
Where you know you're  
Everything  
--_from _Hello _by Sugarbomb  
  
There was a long moment of the terrified silence before Lacey raised a slender finger and pointed at Gabe.  
"Shut her up!" she snarled. Ruth pulled away from Micah's grip on her hair.  
"Yes, Lord," she said meekly, and darted over to Gabe. She gave the coughing girl a hard pound on the back; poor Gabe made a loud strangling noise, but finally managed to stop coughing. Her breathing was harsh and ragged, so Ruth clapped a hand over her mouth and turned obediently back towards Lacey.  
"Lacey?" Micah whispered confusedly. "How could it --"  
"She _tried _to warn you," the Lacey-Thing said, a dark smile playing on her face. "Silly little thing. She knew what was coming, and she tried to turn you away. I seem to remember a... phone call?" Micah inhaled sharply.  
"When she called me --"  
"When Lacey called you," the Lacey-Thing went on, "she was trying to make you stay in St. Cecilia. She knew about my faithful cohorts --" She sneered at her servants. "-- and what they were planning. But Little Miss Goody-Two-Shoes was too afraid they might lock her away if she started ranting about 'He Who Blah Blah Blah'. So she tried what she was best at: being a bitch."  
"Why won't you just _die?" _Micah whispered, half numb. He'd escaped twice, which was more than expected, but could he really slip through the demon's clutches _three times?_  
"The Beast never dies," He Who Walks Behind The Rows said, and laughed. It was more of a bark than a laugh. Three short ones: _ha ha ha. _ Then He looked sharply at Jedediah. "Get off of your lazy ass and seize the Chosen." Jed glanced up -- at Ruth, not at his master -- with wounded eyes.  
"I think my nose is broken," he said softly. Ruth averted her eyes and pressed her hand harder against Gabe's mouth, who'd finally quieted down to wheezy breathing.  
"What do you want?" Micah asked, his voice high and frightened. Gabe had gone strangely quiet, and he was terrified that something had happened to her. Not being able to see her was twisting his chest into painful knots. "What the _hell _do you want? I've served you long enough! I can't do anything else!" He hesitated, then added, "Let Gabe go, please, at least let _her --"  
_"I agree, the nose might've been a bit much." The Beast wasn't paying any attention to him; he was focused on Ruth, who blushed furiously.  
"But Master, the boy --"  
"The boy will be taken care of." The Beast smiled thinly. "Believe me."  
_"What do you want from me?" _Micah screamed. Suddenly, he had everyone's attention once again. The Beast turned his black gaze on Micah and smirked.  
" 'And the Chosen shall return to the holy ground, offer himself up to the Lord, and return with new hope and life for all.' _That's _what I want -- new hope and life for all." He paused, then added with a grotesque grin of satisfaction, "Perhaps I was too vague. 'New hope and life for _me.' _I couldn't possibly care less what happens to the rest of you."  
"But Master," Ruth said suddenly. "You agreed, you agreed I could have the Chosen when you were done with him --"  
"Well, of _course!" _the Beast said with another barking laugh. "It was the only thing that would get through that mop of yours so you could aid me!" Ruth looked confused; she flicked her gaze from Micah to what used to be Lacey.  
"But -- I -- you _said --"_  
"I say a lot of things, Ruth." The Beast smirked with Lacey's lips. "I also told Jedediah that he could have _you _when I was finished with the Prophecy." Micah twisted wildly in his seat. Oh, God, it couldn't be good that she was so quiet... Gabe shouldn't _be _that quiet...  
"You _what?" _Ruth shrieked in disgust. Jedediah flushed so red that for a moment, the smears of blood vanished into the color of his face.  
" 'And the Chosen shall return to the holy ground, offer himself up to the Lord, and return with new hope and life for all,' " the Beast repeated, and smiled. "Come now, my Chosen. Offer yourself up to the Lord."  
"Let Gabe go," he said. His voice was quiet, but firm, and that made him feel slightly better.  
"Ah, but there is a purpose for her too." The Beast's face very briefly wavered, and Micah cringed involuntarily. "This vessel is incredibly weak. I must get out of it soon. And perhaps you heard me wrong the first time --" He ambled over to Micah's chair and seized the pale boy by the collar. "-- offer yourself up to the Lord." With a heave, the Beast flung Micah to the ground.  
"Master!" Ruth cried, then fell silent.  
"Such a flimsy vessel," The Beast said, and laughed quietly, inspecting his hand. "I think I've broken a nail!"  
  
Micah lay on the ground, cringing in pain. His old back injury had been re-awakened, and he could hardly move for the ache racking his body. But now he could see Gabe. Her head was hanging limply once again; she was wheezing quietly against the palm of Ruth's hand. Ruth was staring at Micah intently, a worried frown twisting her brows. Jed was out of sight. And now, like some horrible thundercloud, Lacey stood over him, Lacey's stolen deity-ridden body.  
"Come, my Chosen," he said softly. "It is time."  
"Let. Gabe. Go." Micah had to clench his teeth to get the words out. The Beast simply smirked.  
"Not. On. Your. Life." He gave Micah a kick in the side, making the boy squeeze his eyes shut in pain. "Worm," the Beast said, apparently meaning Jedediah. "prepare the sacrifice."  
_"Master!" _Ruth shrieked as she stumbled away from the cross Gabe hung on. "Surely you don't mean --" The Beast turned on her, one blonde eyebrow raised.  
"His blood shall nourish the corn and secure my legacy. The Chosen _must _be sacrificed in order to assure my rise to power -- _oh, _did I forget to mention that?" The wicked grin on Lacey's face suggested the Beast had not forgotten at all. Ruth was a sick pale milk color.  
"Master, you cannot --"  
_"WHAT?!" _The Beast's voice was suddenly a booming scream, one that made Micah cover his ears in surprise. _"HOW DARE YOU EVEN SUGGEST WHAT HE WHO WALKS BEHIND THE ROWS CAN OR CANNOT DO!" _Ruth blanched a few shades whiter and fell shakily to her knees.  
"Master," she repeated, voice a terrified squeak. "I do not mean to blaspheme --"  
"Then don't," the Beast said coolly, suddenly complacently calm once again. He laughed a little. "You see? This vessel, it's incredibly weak. I can hardly stand to be in it any longer."  
"Lord," Jed said quietly. He had one hand cupped protectively over his nose. "How shall I prepare the sacrifice?"  
"Cover him in barbeque sauce, for all I care!" The Beast threw his arms up in the air. "Imbecile! Spill his blood and secure my legacy! The instructions aren't that difficult to follow!" Again, he paused and laughed. "Now I'm starting to act like the little wench. Hurry and kill him before I start wearing shorts up to my ears and liking it." Micah struggled to sit up and couldn't; he cast a worried glance over his shoulder to the corn-husk cross.  
  
Gabe was gone.  
  
"And I shall need my new vessel ready and waiting," the Beast said, turning to Micah again.  
"I thought you were going to kill me," he snapped angrily. He was trying to stall for time, let Gabe try whatever she was planning. Maybe she was getting help.  
"Oh, I am. But your little whore is a fine vessel." Micah felt his heart plunge into his stomach as the Beast chuckled quietly. "That moron Jeremy wouldn't let me get into her pants, but let's see if I can get into her mind."  
"You sick bastard!" Micah screamed. Again, he was stalling for time. Oh, if only the Beast would wait a few more minutes for his vessel...  
"You flatter me. Now, let me inspect my --" The Beast stopped, staring at the empty cross. There was a long pause before Lacey's body whirled on Ruth. _"Where is she?!"  
_"I --" Ruth was wide-eyed and white as a sheet of paper. "I -- I was --"  
_"That's the second person you let escape!" _the Beast roared. _"And I NEEDED that one!"_  
"Lord, I am --"  
_"And why aren't you preparing the sacrifice?!" _He whirled on Jedediah, who'd frozen a few feet away from Micah.  
"Master --"  
_"INSUBORDINATE, BLASPHEMOUS FOOLS!" _The Beast's face was livid; he seized Jed by the collar and pulled him close. "_DO YOU REALIZE WHAT WILL HAPPEN IF SHE BRINGS BACK ADULTS?!"_  
"Adults are the least of your problems," Danny said coolly. He had reappeared in the cornfield, standing at the edge of the clearing. He held a long-handled scythe in one hand.  
"Oh, _Danny," _the Beast said, suddenly calm and smirking. He turned to face the blonde boy and placed his hands on his hips, twitching his behind smartly. "How do you like my new look?"  
"I know what you are, you monster," Danny growled.  
"Ah, but you didn't seem to notice last night." The Beast's mouth curled into a grotesque smile, and Danny blushed hard.  
"You're not going to hurt anyone," he said angrily, lifting the scythe. "I won't let you."  
"What are you going to do?" the Beast asked calmly. "Slice me up? And risk losing your little girlfriend?" Micah looked around madly. Oh, God, _where the hell was Gabe?_  
"Not quite." Danny pulled a lighter from his pocket. "I know if I do that, you can still live on in the corn. So I'm going to hit you where it hurts -- where your roots lie." He clicked the lighter and held it to the wooden handle of the scythe; it immediately began to burn, creeping slowly down the length of the staff. Danny held onto it for only a moment. "Burn in Hell," he said coldly. "I'll make sure you do." And he heaved it at the cornfield.  
  
The stalks went up in flames almost instantly, explosive with the dryness of the husks.  
_"NO!" _the Beast howled. Ruth moved as if to help him, but Danny seized her by the arm and took hold of Jedediah.  
"Let's go!"  
"But Micah!" Ruth cried, twisting to get out of his grip. "We can't leave Micah!"  
"Danny!" Micah yelled from the ground. He had been unable to speak or cry out when the cornfields took light, but now he was very capable of screaming. Was he planning to just _leave _him there?  
(it would make sense this is _always _your fault)  
"Danny!" he shrieked again, but the smoke was overwhelming. The fields were aflame all around him, and he _couldn't even run._  
_"NO!" _the Beast roared, and Lacey's body crumpled to the ground.  
_"What am I supposed to do?!" _Micah shrieked to the smoke. Danny, it seemed, was gone, and there was no one left to help --  
"Grab around my neck," a voice gasped. He twisted on the ground to see the source.  
"Gabe!" Micah choked, and let out a dry sob of relief. "Oh, God, I didn't know where --"  
"Grab on!" She lifted his arms and hooked them around her neck herself, then stood and pulled him up with her. Micah didn't know how Gabe could lift him like that, but she managed; with a grunt of exertion, she whirled and ran for the only part of the cornfield that wasn't aflame. He clung around her neck, terrified and ashamed. He felt like an infant, being carried like this.  
"Gabe!" Micah shouted suddenly, and pointed past her shoulder. She looked behind them.  
"Oh, _shit!" _she cried. The ground beyond them was twisting and churning like an ocean -- the ground, it seemed, was being disturbed from beneath the surface. And whatever was disturbing the soil was heading straight for them.  
(we're going to die)  
Gabe's breathing was harsh and ragged in his ear as she tried to speed up.  
(he who walks behind the rows is going to kill us)  
She let out a strangled yelp as she stumbled  
(he's going to spill the blood of his chosen)  
and quickly righted herself, careful not to drop Micah.  
_"GIVE HIM BACK!" _screamed an unearthly voice over the roaring of the churning ground. "_GIVE HIM BACK, HE BELONGS HERE! HE BELONGS IN THE CORN!"_  
_"He doesn't belong with you!" _Gabe yelled back. As soon as she said the words, the cornfield ended and the two of them stumbled into Main Street of Hemmingford.  
_"GIVE HIM --" _the unholy voice howled, and the rest of the cornfield went up in flames. 


End file.
